


CoSL33: Family History

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [33]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, F/M, Werewolves, nick's dad - Freeform, relationship building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Rewrites of Lycanthropy and Skin Deep!NIck and Sloane are trying to figure out exactly how their relationship is going in between murders, werewolves, crazy beauty doctors and political intrigue. But things get more complicated when Nick finds out that his father may have been the expert on Templar history they need--and left him a message from the grave to help them!
Relationships: Nick Burkhardt/Original Female Character(s), Rosalee Calvert/Monroe
Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [33]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1061588
Kudos: 3





	CoSL33: Family History

**_“It’s a wise child that knows its own father._ ”**

\-------------------

**Family History**

\--------------------

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

Sloane sighed and looked down the hidden hatch to the tunnel below. It was hard to concentrate on reading the paper with that racket. “Nick, you sound like a blacksmith! You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m…” _Bang!_ “Fine!” He grunted and flexed his hand a little. He was trying to get the door at the end of the hatch open. He’d been neglecting trying to do it for a couple of weeks now, since getting back from Germany. It was now the middle now after Christmas, nearly the new year. They hadn’t made any further headway in researching the bone, and things had been quiet. But not in a comforting way. In a way they could feel something was going to happen soon, like pressure inside a soda bottle that was fit to foam and spill the moment the cap was turned. So he wanted to blow off a little steam and try and get one thing done. Since the passageway wasn’t super wide, he’d insisted Sloane stay topside.

He brought the hammer down again on the pipe he had wedged between the spokes of the wheel handle to give him a sort of fulcrum to push with. And that swing, miraculously, turned the handle several inches. He gasped and dropped the hammer, pulling the pipe out and grasping the wheel. The wheel squealed with age and rust, but it turned with just his bare hands and strength. “I got it!” He yelled.

“You what?” He could hear her already coming down the ladder as he turned the hand wheel enough to get the locking pins out of their chambers and pull it open. Sloane came up quickly with her own flashlight, looking at it. “Oh my God…You did it!” she said, laughing.

“Yeah…Let’s see what’s on the other side,” he said, grunting as he pulled it. Sloane helped him and they opened it to see…a stone wall. Well, the wall was about five feet back, and between them and the wall was yet another gaping chasm with inset metal rungs leading down to the darkness below. Nick frowned, lifting his lantern higher to try and see what was down there. But the light didn’t reach. Sloane pointed her flashlight but that didn’t seem to help either.

“What the heck?” she muttered.

Nick looked around and grabbed a chunk of loose brick from the ground to drop it down the shaft. They waited, listening intently. Ten seconds passed and they looked at one another in surprise before finally hearing it hit the ground. “That’s…deep.”

“Yeah…Why don’t you take a break for today. I’ll go exploring with you later, when we can get some stuff together. We don’t know what’s down there.”

He sighed but nodded. “Yeah…Was it bad to hope there was something cooler behind it after all that effort?” he asked.

She smiled. “Well, it’s no magic bone.”

“Heh, yeah,” he said, laughing a little. “Did we get any word on that yet? …Sloane?”

“Hm?” She looked up and then blushed. She’d been distracted watching a bead of sweat roll down Nick’s chest. “Uh…Word on what?”

Nick smirked a little. “Were you ogling me?”

“What? No…I wasn’t _ogling,_ ” she said, scoffing.

“Oh? Not even a little?” he said, flexing slightly.

She blushed. “…Okay, a little…”

He smiled. “You like me shirtless and a little sweaty?”

“…At the risk of inflating your ego, it is a good look on you. But also, you want to flirt with me, let’s not do it in the creepy tunnel please. The _Silence of the Lambs_ vibe is not a turn on.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed. “You actually liked that movie didn’t you.”

“I’m convinced Hannibal was a strig, but it was pretty…gripping.”

“Yeah, you gripped my hand pretty tight.”

“I wasn’t scared,” she said, a familiar argument. She started climbing up the ladder and Nick did a little ogling of his own.

“It puts the lotion on the skin—” he sang up to her.

“I will close this door on you,” she said, trying to sound stern but he knew she was smiling. He laughed and followed her up and out. Once out, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back to him. She laughed and wrinkled her nose. “Nick, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re filthy and smelly right now…”

“Hey, you don’t get to ogle sweaty me without paying the price.”

She sighed in mock frustration but turned around and wrapped her arms around her neck. “Honestly, you are lucky you’re worthy for me to ogle.”

“So you really do only want me for my looks,” he gasped, pretending to be hurt.

“Oh my God, just kiss me already, you dork,” she groaned. He laughed and kissed her, swaying a little bit. This had become much more commonplace over the last few weeks. They’d begun to slip into being lovers at home, though they tried to keep it more professional at the precinct. So they soaked up a lot of moments to flirt and touch at home and Sloane sort of understood why Monroe and Rosalee were the way they were now.

But they realized they hadn’t said _I love you_ since that night. Both of them realized it, but neither was ready to really approach the fact they hadn’t said it since. They figured the words would come when the moment was right.

Nick pulled back a little, smiling at her warmly. Sloane smiled back and opened her mouth…

And then a phone rang.

Sloane sighed, mildly frustrated. “This is why we haven’t been able to actually go on a date…”

“Hey, that’s your phone this time,” he said, but looked resigned as well.

She frowned and looked around before going to grab it from the kitchen counter. “Oh, it’s Dr. Hier.” She clicked accept. “Hello, Dr. Hier.”

“Sloane, Victoria, please,” she said.

“Sorry, Victoria…” she amended.

“Thank you. I’ve got some news, I’ve been curious about your search and did some digging.”

“Oh?” she said, both intrigued and a bit worried that she figured out their search had to do with an ancient relic Nick had managed to uncover in Germany.

“Yes, I started asking around about experts on Templar history, who might have ties to Grimm research as well. And I found a name that piqued my interest…A researcher who was looking into that very topic, among other things. Apparently he was an expert.”

“Oh, great, how do we contact him?” she said, smiling excitedly.

“I’m afraid that is not possible. He died, about over twenty years ago now.”

“Oh…”

“But I think you might be able to get ahold of some of his research rather easily.”

“Easily? Really?”

“Yes. You know his son after all.”

“I do?”

“Yes. The man’s name was Dr. Reed Burkhardt, professor of History at Vassar College.”

Sloane’s eyes widened and she whipped around to look at Nick in the kitchen where he was getting a bottle of water. “I…what?”

“Indeed, I was surprised too. I contacted the college out of curiosity and they couldn’t tell me much, but perhaps his son might have an in…”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll ask him. Thank you.”

“Of course. I’ll see if I can find out anything else. Please, don’t hesitate to call me any time by the way, I’m happy to help. It fills my day a bit more. I hope you have a good day.”

“You too…” She hanged up and looked at Nick.

He looked back from taking a drink and froze. “…What? What’d I do?”

“Not you…Dr. Hier said she found out someone was researching this subject almost 20 years ago…You’re dad’s name was Reed, right?”

Nick’s eyes widen. “I…yeah. You don’t mean…”

She nodded. “She said he’d been doing research and probably still has a lot of notes.”

“…Aunt Marie handled most of their stuff after the…well, now I know it wasn’t an accident.” He set the bottle down, looking pensive. “She took me to look through it all after I graduated high school, I took a few things for sentimentality but…I don’t remember much of his work being there. I wouldn’t have been too interested in it at the time I guess if it was…I was already planning on being in law enforcement, I didn’t think ancient history would help me that much. Don’t remember anything on Templars. Don’t remember anything on Grimms either…”

“Well, Marie probably would’ve taken anything that was on Grimms…Templars I don’t know.”

“So it might be in the trailer,” he sighed.

“Maybe…Victoria said she called Vassar College—he was a teacher there?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, she wasn’t able to get much information but she thought you might be able to. Maybe something is there…” She frowned, seeing how he was starting to retreat into his mind, and walked over to him. “Are you…how are you doing?”

“…I’m okay,” he said, nodding, coming back to himself. “It’s been a long time since I really thought about him…is that bad?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I don’t think it a good or bad thing it just happens…”

He sighed. “I just didn’t expect it to come back to my dad all of a sudden.”

“…Should we ask your mom about it?”

“…Yeah. But let’s see if I can get ahold of his stuff first.”

\------------------

Adalind knocked on the door of the office, taking a deep breath.

“Come in.”

She opened the door and smiled. “Ms. Fernsby? I have the next round of contracts done.”

An older woman looked up and smiled. “Already? My, Ms. Schade, you do work fast.”

“I try,” she smiled, setting them on her desk. “I found a few areas I would recommend rewording for clarity and to avoid any issues—and a few spelling errors too I’m afraid…”

She clicked her tongue and picked the first contract up to look over it. “Dammit, I told Pamela to use her spellcheck before printing…Thank you, Adalind. I must say, for taking time off for a while you get back into the swing of things fast.” She set the contract back down and tilted her reading glasses to the end of her nose to look at her more clearly. “We’ll be having an arbitration next week between our client and the other party—would you be interested in sitting in?”

Adalind smiled. “That would be great, thank you!”

“No, thank you. I prefer having as many extra hands and eyes as I can. I’ll get the summary and relevant documents to you by tomorrow afternoon. Not to make things awkward, but I was a bit worried Martin might’ve been building you up a bit too much. Seems he was right though; you are a quick study and very smart and capable.”

Adalind blushed in surprise. “He said all that…?”

She smiled. “He did. You know, I’ve known him a long time…and I know it’s been a while since he spoke so highly of anyone.”

She blushed more and waved her hands, a little flustered. “Oh, no…I mean, he spoke highly of you after all!”

“Mmmm, I highly doubt in the same tone though,” she said, smiling mischievously. Adalind blushed more and she chuckled. “But that’s something to think about outside the office. I’ve got one more contract in need of review for today.” She picked it up and held it out. “Think you can have it done by end of day?”

“I think so, yes,” she said, quickly taking it and grateful for the change in subject. She scurried off. _What was that? Was she trying to flirt with me for Meisner? Wait, would Meisner even want to flirt with me? What would I do if he was?_

She sat down at her desk and tried to clear her mind. She didn’t have her own office, but neither was it a sad little cubicle. The office the firm was renting out was spacious enough that the desks could be a good size and good quality and spread out enough to not feel your coworkers breathing. She was near a window which was nice, but also in a corner so she could have extra shelves and a pinboard against the wall. Having been there a month, she’d slowly started settling in and decorating. Minor things really: A picture of her and Diana at the park, a pretty art-deco pencil holder she’d found thrift shopping, and a small potted wood sorrel that Rosalee and Sloane had gotten her. The pot was a pretty gray and white ceramic that made the red of the sorrel pop even more and she’d been touched they’d gotten it for her enough that she still had the tag stuffed away.

 _This really is a great job. It’s so rare for a place to want an in-house contract attorney nowadays, it’s usually freelance. One that doesn’t care one way or the other about wesen is nice too…I do owe Martin a lot. I mean Meitin—Marsentin—Meisner_! She sighed and rubbed her brow. _Focus, woman! This is not the time to get that sort of thing into your head. He’s a friend at most, a guy who wants to make sure you don’t go down that dark path again at the least…and he’s good with Diana. Really good, I mean he plays with her, he doesn’t mind when she wants to dress him up a little…Sean’s great with her too of course, but he still gets kind of stiff when it comes to the games. He never really got to play like that…I don’t want to alienate him, of course. But really, Meisner is surprisingly happy to play even though he’s some super-secret soldier…agent…guy. Like James Bond meets Jack Reacher…He’s handsome enough for those roles too. Oh, there’s a thought—okay, no! Focus!_

She quickly began scanning the contract, red pen ready, trying to forget any thoughts of how good Meisner would look in a tuxedo.

Just before she was finished for the day, Adalind’s phone went off. She saw Sean’s name and picked up the phone. “Sean?”

“Adalind…I need to talk to you.”

She paused in making a note and sat back. She didn’t like that tone. It was resigned, unhappy, maybe even anxious. “What about?” she asked slowly.

“It’s important, but not something I can talk about over the phone. Can we have dinner tonight? Not at your house, just…I can get us a back table at La Maison de Papillon. Sooner the better.”

“Fancy,” she said, not brightening. The prospect didn’t fill her with much excitement.

“I figure I should at least give you a nice dinner out of this,” he sighed.

“That’s not worrying,” she sneered slightly.

“Adalind, please,” he sighed.

“…Alright. I’m not dressed for that place though so let me go home, change and let Kelly know I’ll be out. I’ll meet you there at seven.”

“Sounds like a plan. Thank you.”

He hanged up and she frowned slightly. She couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong.

\-------------------

Monroe sighed in satisfaction as he got the movement of the pocket watch to properly turn and begin ticking steadily. Closing the casing up, he wiped it down and set it in the box it’d been brought to him in. That was one commission down and this nearly 200-year-old watch was back up and running. While maybe not as exciting as running through the hills of Germany from wesen with treasure in hand, it still gave him the pleasant feeling of success. Plus, he got paid for it.

“Hey Monroe?”

“Yeah, honey?” he called back. She was taking the afternoon off while another shop was having some plumbing done. With no water to the shop, it seemed like a better idea to just work from home.

“I’m about to start some laundry, do you have anything you need washed?”

“Uhh…No, I don’t think—Oh! Uh…yeah…”

“Yeah?”

Monroe stood and sheepishly grabbed his duffle bag from by the door. “I kept meaning to do this…”

“…You haven’t unpacked?” she guessed, surprised.

“I kept forgetting. You know, the whole “unboxing a mysterious artifact, which saved me from nearly dying of blood poisoning” is distracting…”

“Fair enough,” she said, both amused by him and disturbed by the memory. “It’s been weeks though.”

“Just a couple…” he said. He opened it and then wrinkled his sensitive nose at the musty smell.

She smiled and took the bag. “I’ll be sure to put it on an extra rinse just to be safe.”

“Thank you,” he said honestly, leaning in to give her a grateful peck on the lips.

She smiled and took it with her to the laundry room by the kitchen. She started pulling out the couple of clothes inside, frowning when she found the shirt he’d been bitten in. “I’ll…just toss you,” she said, setting it side. She reached in again and pulled out a large chunk of linen and frowned in confusion. Shaking it out, she spread it up between her hands to see the image of seven people surrounding the dark outline of a man, each holding something up to him. There was a banner woven around them with something written on it. “Hey, Monroe? What’s this?”

“What’s what?” he echoed, walking towards her.

She stepped out and held the tapestry up. “This?”

Monroe’s eyes widened and he walked over more quickly, taking the other end in his hands. “Oh crap, I forgot! I got this from the crypt!”

“The crypt?” She looked at it again, pinching the cloth now rather than fisting it.

“Yeah! It was between these two really decked out dead guys. Nice clothes, jewels, all that. I was trying to read it and I accidently pulled it down so I just took it with me…Here, bring it over this way.” He walked with her, setting the tapestry on the dining table. “See, it has seven knights on it!”

“Like the ones from the crusades?” She got closer, looking over it as well. “It’s pretty dirty…Do you think it could survive a delicate cycle?”

“I don’t want to risk it…this thing is probably just as old as that crypt, the fact that it’s still around a miracle. It might just disintegrate if we aren’t careful…” He smoothed it out gently and frowned as he tried to read it. “Okay, I can see it better…but it still doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“What’s it say?”

“Das Kind desjenigen, von dem sieben ihr Geschenk nahmen…”

“Could you do it in English?” she asked sheepishly.

“Right, sorry,” he smiled. “It seems to say, “The child of the one from whom the seven took their gift...” Something, something… “Seven pieces to contain him…seven blessings for their aid, seven curses for their doom…” Something… “Till the day he rises again,”…That’s about what I can read.”

“…That’s ominous,” Rosalee said, worried.

“Well, I can’t read half of it,” he said, trying to gently wipe some of the dirt away. “It’s like that cloth the bone was wrapped in…You’re trying to contact a museum to look at that, right?”

“Yes, trying be the key word…it’s hard to convince them to use equipment without charge to look over something private…I don’t think we want them keeping it though.”

“Definitely not,” Monroe agreed. “Well, when you do find someone, maybe we can have them look at this too. I’ll take a picture, text Nick and let him know I have it,” he said, quickly grabbing his phone.

“That’s probably a good idea…then you’re folding it up and cleaning the table because I don’t want to eat on it after this thing that was between two dead guys for 800 years was on it.”

“…Understandable,” he nodded, wrinkling his nose.

\-----------------------

Diandra Jolis was scribbling a few notes for her next class when the phone rang. She picked it up quickly, still writing with her other hand about what she wanted to cover in her next class. “This is Dr. Jolis.”

“Uh, hi…this is the head of the History Department at Vassar College, right?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“Right, sorry, it’s been a long time…Um, my name is Nick Burkhardt. My father used to be a professor there.”

She froze. “Burkhardt…Nicholas? You’re Reed’s son?” she asked, sitting back in surprise.

“Yeah?”

She chuckled. “Oh, you probably don’t remember me. I was a teaching assistant under your father back when you were a teen. My last name then was Barret…”

“…Were you the one that wore that Pulp Fiction T-Shirt and tried to convince my dad I was old enough to see it when I was 11?”

She laughed out loud then and covered her eyes at the memory. “Oh God—yeah, that’s me. Woo, I’ve got kids though so now I know how your dad felt…I’m surprised you remember that.”

“I might’ve snuck it from the video store and then got grounded…” he said delicately.

“Oh, ouch…I’m surprised your father still spoke to me. I hope that was the end of your illegal escapades.”

“Well, I’m a homicide detective now so I try.”

“Oh…wow, that’s amazing…I feel so old now,” she said wistfully. “But why’re you calling in?”

“Well, a friend of mine is helping me research some things and she found out my dad was actually researching the same things…”

“Oh yes…I did get a call from someone the other day asking about Reed’s research.”

“Yeah, that’s them. It’s a…hobby, right now, I guess. Looking into all that stuff and I didn’t realize it’d bring me close to him again. And well…My aunt passed away a couple of years ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” she said sympathetically. “…What happened to Reed and Kelly hit us all pretty hard…”

 _Yeah, except it wasn’t my mom and she’s still alive…_ “I know. I guess maybe that’s part of why I’m looking into this. I knew my dad was interested in the crusades but I didn’t realize he was an expert, I thought he was more into the renaissance.”

“Oh, Reed loved anything old and kind of weird, to be honest,” she chuckled. “He always stressed to us we needed to look beyond what we know today, what’s on the surface, and really delve deep. And to try and hang up our biases. He had a whole unit that most of us called “History was a whitewash, here’s the real shit you should know.” Pardon my language.”

Nick chuckled. “No, no, that’s good to hear…I didn’t really appreciate when he talked about work before…” he trailed off, feeling a little guilty.

“He was everyone’s favorite teacher…” She sighed and looked at the ceiling. “You know, he did leave something here. He said it was for safe keeping. It’s a really big, locked trunk …”

Nick’s heart sped up, thinking about the trunk Sloane got that belonged to Josef Nebojsa full of Grimm books and weapons. “Really?”

“Yeah. I didn’t tell the other researcher about it since I don’t know what all is in there and it was Reed’s not the university. But since you’re his son…well, I think he meant for you to have it to be honest, I just didn’t know where you were.”

“Well…I’m in Portland.”

“Maine or Oregon?”

“Oregon.”

She clicked her tongue. “That’s a long way away…”

“Yeah…I don’t know if I can take off to come get it soon…” _I just took off recently to go crypt diving or whatever in Germany…_

“Well, shipping is going to be a bit hefty for it. It’s not small or light…”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that either…” He looked up when he noticed Sloane waving at him and she held up a hastily scrawled pieces of paper that said _LIBRARY WILL SHIP IT FREE_. He’d had it on speaker so he wasn’t surprised she could hear it from the living room this time. He looked at her and mouthed _Really?_ And she nodded with an excited smile. “Actually, I uh…have someone that owes me a favor. They could pick it up and get it to me.”

“Really? Well, that’s great! I’ve been wondering how long I can hide it from the new dean to be honest, he’s been trying to clean up clutter and all that.”

“Yeah, I’ll contact them and try to get them to come over in the next couple of days if that’s alright.”

“Sounds great. And Nick? I’m glad you’re doing well…”

Nick smiled a bit. “Thanks, Dr. Jolis. I’ll let you know if we find anything interesting.” _So long as it’s not Grimm related._

“I’d appreciate that. Oh, I better go though, I have a class to do!”

“Right, bye.”

He hanged up and looked at Sloane. “The Library can do that?”

“Yeah—I’ll call Dr. Hier and she can arrange it to be picked up and then delivered through our back channels,” Sloane said.

“Great…”

“…You don’t sound as excited.”

“No, I am,” he said quickly. “Just…also kind of…”

“…Scared?” she guessed.

“A little,” he sighed, walking over to sit with her. “I mean, mom said he wasn’t a Grimm…so the chest or trunk or whatever is kind of a surprise. And I’m sure since he knew what Grimms were, there’s going to be more surprises…And I’m looking forward to them but I’m also wondering if I’m going to find out something I don’t want to.”

Sloane frowned and took his hand, rubbing over the back of it. “…Did you like your dad?”

He blinked and looked at her before nodding. “Yeah…I loved him. I mean, I was twelve when he…died. I was a dumb pre-teen and I used to give him a hard time about how boring history was,” he laughed ruefully. “…There was plenty of times I wished he was around. When I graduated high school…graduating college…becoming a police officer…becoming a detective…Couple of times on cases…” He counted on his fingers and sighing. “He and Monroe would’ve gotten along really well I think. I miss him when I have whiskey too. When he wanted to unwind he’d sit with whiskey and a book. Made me promise to never smoke because he watched his father die from emphysema…was a bookworm but somehow kept making three pointers when he played basketball with me,” he laughed. “But then he’d make me focus on homework so I’d gripe and complain but I knew not to cross him or mom would get involved…She was definitely more the disciplinarian. And made even more baskets than either of us.”

“…He sounds great.”

“Yeah…”

They were quiet, Sloane leaning against him and trying to comfort through the nostalgic sense of loss that went through him. It was different from her—she didn’t understand her feelings of loss when she’d never even had anything to lose in that department.

While they were sitting, Nick’s phone buzzed again and he looked to see he had a text from Monroe. He opened it.

**_Monroe_ ** _: Hey, Nick! I forgot I brought back something else from the crypt—I found this down there. It looks like it might have something to do with the bone but I’m not sure, it’s hard to make out the words._

He attached a picture of a tapestry. And Nick frowned and made it bigger. “That’s…weird looking.”

“…For some reason, I don’t get a great feeling from it,” Sloane said, leaning on his shoulder. “It reminds me of a picture of a witch burning I saw once; I don’t know why…”

“Because it’s creepy?”

“Maybe…Do you want to go see it in person?”

He sighed. “Maybe later…right now I just want to relax for a little bit at least…”

“Okay…How about I cook dinner? We got those little steaks in there; I could flatten them out and stuff them with cream cheese and spinach? Make some garlic bread and salad?”

“…You are the best,” he said.

“I know,” she smiled, kissing him with a smile.

\-----------------------

Kelly was sitting, listening to the television. She could see vague shapes through her one eye, but the brightly colored cartoons didn’t do much for her. Adalind had left to have dinner with Renard and she and Diana were at the house to have a quiet night in away from the December chill.

She heard her phone go off and managed to find it easily with her hearing and hold it up to her ear. “Kelly.”

“Mom? It’s me.”

“Ah, hello Nicky,” she said with a smile. “How are you doing?”

“Good, good…”

“…You sound a little unsure.”

“Not unsure, just…Okay, so you know what Monroe and I found in Germany.”

“That strange bone you talked about?”

“Yeah. Do you remember anything like that coming up before?”

“…No? Not that I remember. Why?”

“…Dr. Hier was looking into it and she found out dad was doing research into the Grimm Templars.”

He’d said it quickly but clearly but Kelly was still taken aback. “Your father was?”

“Yeah…Dr. Reed Burkhardt of Vassar College.”

“…I…never heard anything about this,” she said, frowning deeply.

“Nothing?”

“No…your father often researched things though. Sometimes several things at once. He often looked for where things might cross with wesen or Grimm history too. Maybe I just didn’t know about it,” she sighed. “I can’t remember all the things he was researching over the years…”

“Well…I called the college and they have a trunk that belonged to him.”

“They what?” she asked sharply.

“Kiki?”

She turned her head towards Diana and smiled to try and show she wasn’t angry or scared. “I’m okay, sweety.”

“Okay…” She went back to watching cartoons and Kelly sighed.

“Mom?”

“I’m…surprised. I didn’t know that he kept anything at the college. Neither did Marie or I’m sure she’d have gotten it just to be safe…”

“They said it was a trunk?”

“Oh! Your father’s old steamer trunk…I didn’t realize it was there. He used to keep old files and notes in it. I don’t know what all is there…”

“Well, Dr. Hier is going to coordinate shipping it to us.”

“…Okay. That’s good…”

“Mom?”

“I…need to get Diana ready for bed.”

“…Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Later,” she agreed. She hanged up and sighed. She felt a hand on her knee and could just make out Diana as close as she was.

“Kiki is sad?”

“…A little. I’m just missing someone.” She smiled and lifted her up. “It’s time for your bath though…can you turn off the TV?” She saw a faint violet glow and heard the TV turn off behind her. “Thank you.”

\----------------------

Adalind walked into the French restaurant, dressed accordingly. She’d changed from her simple suit for the office into a semi-formal navy-blue dress. She knew the power dressing for a location could have—future clients could see her here and it could make an impression. The waiter led her to the private room at the side and Sean stood when she entered, ever the gentleman. “Adalind…you look…wow.”

She smiled. “Thanks. I’ll admit, I haven’t gotten to dress up in a while so this is kind of nice. Honestly, something that isn’t chicken nuggets or spaghetti is nice,” she sighed.

“Diana still being picky?” he asked, slightly amused.

“It’s just a phase I’m assured,” she sighed. “Kelly said even Nick went through it. It’s weird, I never really thought of him as a kid…”

“Me neither…but I didn’t ask you here to talk about the Grimms.”

“No, yeah, I figured…” They quieted when the waiter returned and showed Renard a bottle of wine. He nodded and the waiter poured them each a glass before leaving the bottle on a nearby serving cart for later. Adalind took a sip, noting the pensive look on Sean’s face as he swirled his glass a bit. “Why did you call me here? You seem really tense…”

“To say the least,” he sighed. He took a long sip and then a deep breath. “…Let’s eat first. When I tell you, it’s going to probably kill your appetite…”

She frowned more but he insisted with a wave of his hand and she looked the menu over.

They had a nice meal, mostly talking about Diana. Things like school choices and the like and how that was going to work. It wasn’t a warm dinner, but it was nice. At the end Adalind blotted her lips and sighed as she set the napkin on the table. “Okay…so, what’s going on? I know there’s something bothering you.”

He sighed, setting his napkin down as well and steepling his fingers. “…It will be announced tomorrow I’m throwing my hat in the ring for the special Mayoral election.”

Adalind coughed a little on her last bit of wine, swallowing quickly and trying to take a quick breath. “What?”

“Yes. I’m going to be running for Mayor of Portland.”

She could tell he didn’t sound enthused but nodded in encouragement. “I…Wow, I mean, that’s great! Really…I had no idea you were thinking of doing that.”

“It wasn’t my idea.”

She frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m being forced into it.”

“…I’ve never known someone to force you to do anything,” Adalind said.

“If they have the right leverage, they can…”

“…What are you talking about?” she asked, getting a bad feeling.

“…The people who killed Andrew, their name is Black Claw.”

Adalind gripped the tablecloth. “Black…Claw?”

“You’ve heard of them?”

“Meisner has mentioned them…that they’re a terrorist organization.”

“Yes. I had no idea of their involvement at the time of course. They infiltrated Andrew’s team and set it all up. If I’d known…” He sighed in frustration.

“…But why? I mean, why kill Andrew, he was such a nice guy…” she said, shaking her head. “And why would you work for them?”

“Because they know about Diana.”

She froze. “…What?”

“They know about Diana. And about you. I don’t know how but they’ve made it very clear that if I don’t play along, they don’t have any qualms about threatening people. And following through with their threats.”

Adalind sat back, feeling a little nauseous. “They threatened her?”

“And you.”

“Well…they’re going to have a tough time with that. Because my powers are back.”

Renard straightened. “They are?”

“Yes. I’m trying to be sparing with them, but if they dare try anything I’ll…” She balled up her fists and their glasses rattled a bit.

“Adalind, look at me,” Renard said, grabbing her hands. “I know you’re powerful. I know Diana is powerful too. But whoever is running this is…”

“You think they’re more powerful?” she said, not believing him.

“Whoever has done this has gotten dozens, maybe hundreds of wesen to follow him. I don’t doubt it. There’s no telling who is in this organization or what they might do, and as much as I want to fight I know I can’t win against them…and neither would you given the sheer numbers.”

Adalind looked at the table, then back at him. “So…you have to run for mayor and win I take it?”

“Yes. But more than that…they think me being a family man will help that.” He reached into his pocket and set a ring box on the table. “They were, again, _very insistent._ ”

Adalind stared and then felt a giddy laugh bubble up. “I mean…are you joking? No offense, really, but this is…too far. You’re saying they want an _arranged marriage_?”

“I know. But if we don’t, we have to deal with them pushing or retaliating.”

“Well they can go ahead and do that, because I’m not marrying you to give you a “loving family”!”

“Adalind,” he sighed.

“Don’t say my name like I’m some child throwing a tantrum, Sean,” she bit out. “I already told you, after _everything_ I’ve been through and that you’ve put me through, I don’t love you like that.”

“I understand that, alright?” he snapped. “I’m not asking this to hurt you or because I want to force you into this, but because it’s the only option I have right now to protect you and our daughter!” He grabbed her hand and roughly put the box into it. “Take this and just…think. If you can come up with a better solution than playing along right now, I’m all ears.”

Adalind glared, her hand tightening on the box, and she stood to stalk out of the restaurant. She was shaking with emotion—a lot of anger, some still spiraling feelings for Sean, bitterness, and fear. She felt tears in her eyes and rushed to her car to get back home quickly, trying to keep her emotions under control and not break anything on the way.

Sean watched her go and sighed, downing the rest of the wine and pinching his brow because he already had a headache.

\---------------------------------

“I’ve coordinated the pick-up and delivery,” Victoria said, handing him a piece of paper. It was the next day and he dropped by the Library to discuss it. “It should be here in about two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Nick asked, slightly disappointed, taking the paper. It was just a confirmation slip in case anything went wrong.

“I put a priority on it but it’s a large object. Getting it through the back channels isn’t as easy as say a book or crossbow.”

“I guess that’s fair,” he sighed.

“It’ll be delivered here to the library if that’s alright, I didn’t have your address and wasn’t sure you wanted it given out.”

“No, yeah, I appreciate that.”

“…Sloane didn’t come with you?” she asked curiously.

“Ah, no, she went to finish up some work at the precinct,” he said, folding the paper up and putting it in his jacket pocket.

“You and she are close?”

“…Yeah, um…we’re dating.”

“Oh! I mean, I thought that might be the case but I wasn’t sure,” she said, smiling a little awkwardly.

“It’s a newer thing, we’re still…figuring a few things out,” he said, also awkwardly.

“The whole working together while dating thing, hm?” she asked, nodding sagely.

“You have experience with that?”

“Oh, on and off,” she sighed. “There’s always the one that got away though, that I kept thinking about…”

“Yeah…It’s harder when that one keeps popping up in a way when you don’t want them anymore,” he muttered.

Victoria gave him a quizzical look. “…Perhaps so.” She tapped the desk, a little agitated it seemed before looking at him. “But you two are doing well?”

Nick was a bit caught off guard. It felt like how she was asking it was a bit personal, but also concerned. “…Yeah. I think we are. Just…finding that balance.”

“Right, yes. Balance is good,” she nodded. “I hope it works out well…and you treat her well.”

“…Yeah, I’m going to,” he nodded back.

“Good. I won’t keep you then, I’ll call you when you it arrives.”

“Thanks…” He nodded and headed out of the library back up to the well. Once he was out he checked his phone and saw he had a voicemail from Sloane from a call he’d just missed.

“ _Hey Nick, we got called out to the woods on a case. Guy found by side of the road looks like he got mauled. Still alive though according to the trucker that found him. I’ll text you the coordinates.”_

His phone buzzed when the coordinates came through and he quickly went to his car to head out there.

He pulled up to a rest area in the woods, where an ambulance was pulled up treated a man in a suit who looked about late twenties, early thirties through all the blood on him. But rather than hurt he looked more impatient and upset at the EMTs treating him.

Wu explained that he was their victim, Doyle Baske. 28 years old, on his way to visit his mother yesterday evening when his tire blew out and he drove his car into a tree. That had been further up the road—he’d tried to walk to find a signal for his phone and ended up attacked and chased by a man and his dog, according to him. He’d ran and fell down a hill onto the highway and been knocked out till a truck driver nearly ran him over in the early morning. Wu said that despite the blood and scratches, the bit wounds looked more human than canine. And aside from the cut to his head, no major wounds were found.

“So where did all that blood come from?” Sloane asked, eyeing the grey suit that was now a deep burgundy along his chest and wrists. It was also pretty shredded, indicative of being attacked, with long slash marks around his shoulders and chest.

“Exactly,” Wu said, turning to lead them towards the ambulance.

They could hear Baske protesting, standing and throwing the shock blanket off of him. “No, I said I'm fine.”

“We can't tell if there's any internal bleeding or head trauma unless we take you into the hospital,” the EMT said.

“I'm not going in,” he replied, his tone not yielding. He turned to walk off only to be met with all of them as they came up.

“Doyle Baske? I'm Detective Burkhardt. This is Detective Griffin and Detective Larson.”

He sighed, looking impatient rather than traumatized. It was obvious he wanted to leave from his body language and his tone. “Look, guys, I-I got attacked by a guy and his dog, okay? I didn't get a good look at them. I got away. I must've hit my head. I don't know. I'd just blown a tire and hit a tree.”

“Can we see some identification, please?” Hank said.

He sighed sharply but nodded and dug his wallet out of his pocket. “Yeah, sure.”

“What kind of work do you do?” Nick asked.

“Commercial real estate. My office is downtown,” he said, handing Hank his driver’s license.

“And you were on your way to visit your mom?” Sloane asked.

“Yeah, last night. Try to get out to see her, like, once a month. She lives alone. Dad died a couple years ago.”

“She lives alone all the way out here?”

He flinched, just slightly, but shrugged. “They always liked the quietness of the woods, so they bought a place out here after they retired. Not convenient but she’s still happy out here.”

“And where are you headed now?” Nick asked.

“I was just going back to where I left my car.”

We can give you a ride, if you don't mind us asking you a few questions on the way,” Hank said, handing his license back.

He looked hesitant for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I can do that.”

Wu went to coordinate with the EMTs while Nick climbed into his car and Sloane and Hank got into the unmarked blue sedan they’d driven down with Doyle.

The crash site wasn’t too far, just a few minutes by car up the road. A silver Mustang was grill first into a tree, the front crunched in all the way to the engine from the looks of it and the airbag deployed. “You're lucky you walked away from this…” Hank said, eyeing the damage with a frown.

“Is this where you were attacked?” Nick asked.

“No, it's somewhere down there,” he said, gesturing up further. Sloane quirked a brow. “I was trying to make a call but didn't have any signal. I don't remember where exactly. I just remember this dog coming at me, and everything after that's kind of a blur. I ran into the woods, and...” He sighed, arms flopping down. “Guess I just ended up where I ended up.”

“…Back that way?” Sloane asked, pointing the way they came. The opposite direction of where he said he’d walked.

“Yeah, I…must’ve circled around at one point while I was running,” he said quickly.

“And you ended up bleeding in the middle of the road?”

“Look, it was dark. I don't know where I was going. I just know that I was trying to get the hell out of there,” he snapped. “Not to mention the fact that I had just driven my car into a tree, so please, forgive me if I wasn't exactly thinking straight.”

“Well, you might have a concussion, you know,” Nick said.

“Yes…And I will get myself checked out, I swear, but right now, I just need to get to my mother. She's probably worried sick about me,” he sighed.

“Do you remember what kind of dog it was?” Hank asked.

He gave him an impatient look. “You know what? I don't. I'm not really a big dog guy. It was big, it was hairy, and it was a dog, okay?”

They looked at one another but decided that was enough pressing. After all, he was the victim…supposedly. “We'll drive you to your mom's,” Nick said. “You can call a tow truck from there.”

“Thank you. Let me just get my briefcase,” he said, going to the car.

Sloane hanged back with Nick by his car a moment. “Something feels off about this…especially given the amount of blood on him.”

“Yeah…But he’s the only victim we have. On another note, Victoria’s taken care of getting my dad’s stuff here and it should be about two weeks.”

“That’s good,” she sighed. “I was thinking…I might ask Hadrian’s Wall for a favor.”

“A favor?” he asked, concerned immediately.

“To find Dierdre. And the trailer. It’s been almost a year and we’re no closer. But they have all that surveillance connections, equipment and programs…I figure if I can get them to find her, maybe we’ll be closer to getting the trailer back.”

“We’ve got the library now though,” he pointed out. “And you’ve got the books from Nebojsa.”

“So you’re fine never seeing the trailer again,” she asked dubiously.

“…No…Just…” He sighed. “While I don’t distrust Meisner and obviously trust Trubel…”

“Eve?” she asked.

“Yeah. Plus shadowy government organization doesn’t inspire a lot of good feelings…”

“Tell me about it. But they want to use us, we do have a common goal…I figure we should at least get something out of it.”

Nick sighed but then smiled and nodded. “You make a good point.”

“Don’t I always?” she smirked back.

“Ha. C’mon, we better get Mr. Baske home,” he said, squeezing her arm.

She smiled and headed for the car with Hank and Baske so Nick could follow again. It started to rain softly as they drove through the forest roads again. Following Doyle’s directions, they came to a small but impressive Tudor style manor nestled amongst the trees with a long-curved driveway up to the English garden around the front door. Sloane had to admit she rather liked it.

“Hey, guys, I'd... I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to my mother about me getting attacked…” Doyle said, leaning forward to look at them between the front seats. “I don't want her to get freaked out.”

“Okay, but we're gonna need your shirt,” Hank asked.

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Some of the blood on it might not be yours,” Sloane explained. “We can use it to help identify whoever attacked you.”

He looked uncomfortable a moment before sighing and nodding. “Yeah, okay…Oh, that's my mom.” They looked up to see a woman at the door, looking out that them. Doyle quickly opened the door and grabbed his briefcase before jogging across the lawn to meet her. “Mom!”

“Oh, my God,” she breathed as he walked up. She was a middle-aged woman with short brown hair, dressed in navy padded vest with leather accents and dark indigo shirt and jeans like she’d planned to go outside. “Oh, I was so worried about you. What happened?”

“I know. I...”

“Your shirt!” she gasped, looking at the blood and rips and tears all over his clothes. “Is that blood? Are you injured?”

“It looks worse than it is, I swear,” he sighed.

“Oh, my God…” she said, shaking a little.

“My car had a flat tire. It went off the road, but I'm fine. These police detectives, they gave me a ride. …I'm sorry. I don't remember your names.”

“No problem. I'm Detective Burkhardt. This is Detective Griffin and Detective Larson.”

She nodded to them but looked back at her son. “You gave me quite a scare…”

“I know, and I'm sorry,” he sighed. “I-I tried to call, but my phone had no service…”

“I want to find out if you called the police last night when he didn't show up,” Hank said. “In case it was reported.”

“No, I didn't; I thought he was late or just stuck at the office,” she said. “I was more worried when he didn’t call this morning to say so or if he was coming today.”

“Yeah,” Doyle nodded. “Well, thank you, guys, for the ride.”

“If we need to get ahold of you…” Nick prompted.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he said, quickly setting his case down and fishing his wallet back out. He grabbed a business card and handed it to him. “This is my card. Number's on it. Just give me a call.” He and his mother turned to go inside but Sloane waved a hand to stop them.

“Your shirt,” she reminded him.

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I'm just gonna get my mom in the house, and then I'll run it right back out, okay?”

They nodded, letting them go inside and stood back to watch the rain for a bit. “That strike you as a little weird?” Hank asked.

“What?” Nick asked.

“He didn't want his mom to know that he was attacked. If my mom lived out here by herself and I was attacked not far away, I'd want her to know so she could at least lock the doors,” he said as if it were obvious.

“If my mother lived out here, I’d worried for whatever was living in the woods,” Sloane said dryly. Hank nodded, unable to disagree.

“Maybe he'll tell her later, after he gets off his bloody shirt,” Nick also said.

They heard footsteps behind them and turned to see Doyle coming with his shirt in his hands, bare chested. It was a little surprising how well muscled he was for a realtor. “Here you go. Thanks again.” He practically tossed it at them before closing the door.

“…Yeah, he really didn’t have that many scratches on him,” Nick said.

Sloane quirked a brow at him. “Were you ogling him?”

Nick blushed and gaped at her but she just laughed and headed for the car before he could respond. Hank quirked a brow but Nick shook his head. He tried not to laugh as he followed them.

\-------------------

Adalind stared at the ring box on the table. Part of her wanted to throw it in the garbage. Another wanted to use her powers to throw it into the stratosphere. But there was a part of her that knew Sean was serious and that was the part that worried her the most.

She looked up when the doorbell rang and quickly went to answer it. “Meisner…” she sighed.

“Adalind…you said it was an emergency?”

“Yes…Kind of. No, definitely.” She motioned him inside and couldn’t help but glance around worriedly. If they knew about them, that might mean they knew where she lived.

Meisner frowned. “What is it? Where is Diana?” He added, looking around.

“I asked Kelly to take her out for a walk. I know she’ll be safe with her…”

“Safe?”

Adalind looked at him and sighed, walking over to the counter and picking up the ring box. “Sean gave me this yesterday.”

He frowned and took it, popping it open to see the rather impressive ring inside. “…Congratulations,” he said, his voice a little flat.

“I didn’t accept it. I mean I took it, but I didn’t…” she sighed and sat on one of the stools at the island. “He said he’s being pushed to marry me. By that organization you’re looking for, Black Claw.”

Meisner nearly dropped the box but gripped it tighter. “Explain. Please,” he added.

She sighed. “He said they want to have him run for Mayor and he’s announcing it soon. And that having a family would help him with the polls. So they want me and Diana to join him.”

“…So you are…window dressing?” he asked.

“A bit blunt but yeah,” she sighed.

“Then you will refuse.”

“Believe me, I want to,” she laughed. “Sean knows it too. But he said that if I don’t…they’ll try to hurt me and Diana. And he thinks they can.”

“…They could,” he said quietly.

“But your protecting us?” Adalind said, a little desperate.

“We do our best, but…” He sighed as well and went to sit with her. “…We believe the man in charge of Black Claw is dangerous. Beyond that of a normal human. Or a normal wesen.”

“…How so?” she said, feeling a little worry creep into her.

“He goes by the name “Conrad Bonaparte”. But we believe he’s had many other names. Have you heard of “Cruor House”?”

She huffed a laugh. “Yeah, of course. It was a wesen cult back in the 1800s. They wanted to out themselves and be in charge. They took over an English estate, got super debauched, started killing townspeople and then all died suddenly…The council made most public record of that disappear.”

“Most, yes. But we believe that the man in charge of that, the one known as “Midas” is and was Bonaparte.”

She blinked then shook her head. “I…I’m sorry, you think it’s him? But he’d have to be over a hundred and twenty years old!”

“Indeed. But it might be possible for him. Some wesen have long lives, but for him…we believe he is a very powerful Zauberbiest.”

“Oh…” she said, feeling dread settle into her. “If he can live that long…then yeah, he must be powerful. A-are you sure though?”

“Not one hundred percent, but what records we have found seem to confirm our suspicions. Time, places, descriptions. And one photo we were able to find from that time. But we have not been able to find Bonaparte to compare.”

“I see…but if it isn’t, I mean…My powers are back, I-I can defend myself and Diana…”

“…Adalind, we are more sure than unsure. And more than that, if it is him, he is extremely dangerous. Before they killed them, we were able to get some records from the wesen council. It was not the council or a Grimm that took care of the members of Cruor House. Bonaparte did it himself. Nearly one hundred members killed in a matter of minutes.”

“…You’re joking…” she whispered. “Why…why would he? They were his followers?”

“The council said that they did dispatch someone to try and take care of it. They found Midas in the middle of all the chaos, at the dining table with his inner circle’s corpses in the chairs around him. Eating one of their hearts on a platter with a knife and fork. ‘Like roast beef’, it said.”

“Oh God,” she whispered, feeling sick. “He’s a Warlock…”

“Warlock?”

She shook a little, hugging herself. “My mother…told me about them. Hexenbiests who give up all their humanity completely are called Beldams. Zauberbiests who do that are called Warlocks. I’ve heard both consume the life of those around them, those they kill. Honestly, I probably came close to being one to get my powers back…Or maybe I did…” She thought about Frau Pech who died. Admittedly it hadn’t been by her hands, but she’d still made convenient and bloody use of her.

Meisner frowned. “I don’t suppose she ever mentioned what to do if you met one?”

“Run,” she said simply.

He nodded, sighing. “Good advice, I think.”

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she said, giving a shuddery, watery gasp. “If he knows about me, knows about Diana, he really could hurt us and I couldn’t stop it.”

“Then we will try to stop him,” Meisner said.

“No!” she gasped and grabbed his hand. “No, you cannot face this man! He will kill you or worse.”

“Adalind, calm down,” he said, putting his own hand on top of hers.

“No. Martin, I know you are strong and you can face down wesen that would make most humans scream and run, but not this one. If he is a warlock, he’s capable of dark magic we can’t understand.”

“…You called me Martin,” he muttered.

“…I…that’s what you’re focusing on?” she asked, blushing but still upset with him.

He smiled. “Sorry. I just rather liked how you said it…”

She blushed and squeezed his hand again. “I’ll use it then, but promise me you won’t go looking for him!”

“I can’t promise that, Adalind,” he sighed. “I have to stop Bonaparte, or Midas, or whatever he calls himself now. To stop Black Claw. And now to protect you and Diana.”

“But he could kill you…”

“So could many others I faced. But that doesn’t mean I stop fighting for what I know is right. And for what is important.”

Adalind felt her heart race for a different reason when he looked her in the eyes. “…Of course you’re noble…” she sighed.

“Less noble, more ready to kill to keep from losing anything else,” he smiled.

“What should I do then?” she asked, looking at him.

“…Do not make any rash decisions. I will see what other options there are.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay…thank you…Martin.”

He smiled, thumb rubbing over her hand. Adalind felt her heart speeding up and wondered, idly if she should say something. Or do something.

Martin’s phone went off and he closed his eyes and sighed resignedly. Grabbing it, he looked and frowned. “…Seems I am popular today. Sloane would also like to talk about something.”

“Well, hopefully it’s not as bad as mine…”

“We will figure something out,” he said, squeezing her hand again before standing. “Call me if anything else happens.” She nodded, waving as he left and sighing to herself.

\-------------------

Kelly walked with Diana in the stroller through the nearby park, under the shade of tall trees and the over the smoothness of a concrete path. “You’ll be three soon. What do you want for your birthday?”

“Ice cream!” she cried, giggling.

Kelly smiled. “You can have that any time?”

“Like now?”

“It’s December!” Kelly smiled. “How about some hot chocolate?”

“Yeah!” she cheered, holding up the stuffed fox in her hands in triumph.

“Oh my, what an adorable little girl.”

Kelly turned her head slightly to the voice and could make out the outline of a woman. She sounded older, midwestern, and was a little on the round side. She was a blur of pastels and bright red hair to Kelly. “Yes, she is…”

“Oh, I could just eat you up…” She said, kneeling in close.

“…Bad lady.”

She looked taken aback but Kelly tensed. “Excuse me?”

“Bad lady, Kiki!” she shouted, close to crying.

Kelly didn’t bother trying to placate the woman, instead backing up slightly with Diana’s stroller. “Who are you?”

“What? I—”

“If you’re wesen, I’m not in the mood to play,” she said, not bothering to be subtle. The woman froze and she couldn’t see what she was when she woged—something with teeth though—then made a grab for Diana’s stroller. Kelly pulled Diana away and stepped around, kicking the woman in the face. She shrieked and there was the sound of several other people yelling, but Kelly readied herself for a fight. The woman ran for her again and Kelly punched her. Even half blind, she wasn’t a pushover!

But then she heard Diana scream and turned to see someone else trying to get her out of her stroller. “No!” She moved to stop him, only for him to be blown backwards by a wave of power. Diana began to cry and the trees seemed were bending inward, one of them moving as if to grab the prone man and lift him up. He screamed as the branches coiled around him like snakes. The ground under the woman, despite being solid, turned to a liquid texture and she screamed as her feet we sank into the hole. There was an even louder commotion as others around them began running away. Kelly grabbed Diana out of the stroller, holding her and stroking her hair. She quickly kicked the stroller away towards someone else coming at them since it was a cheap one anyway and ran for the exit and home.

She got home in record time and quickly got inside.

“Kelly?” Adalind asked, standing from the couch. “What’s wrong?”

Kelly caught her breath and handed Diana too her, Diana sniffling and holding on tight. “Someone tried to kidnap Diana.”

Adalind paled and held her daughter tighter. “W-what?”

“Some kind of wesen…I couldn’t tell what. Diana could tell she was a bad lady though. And she had a partner. Diana’s powers got a little wild but I was able to get us out of there…” She sighed and tossed the stroller aside in frustration. “The fact they still were able to do it…” she growled.

“Kelly, it’s okay. You got her out of there,” Adalind said.

“But they shouldn’t have been able to get the drop on us! I just…I’m useless! So much so my son has to tell me about all his adventures after the fact because I can’t do a damn thing to help!” She leaned over, bracing herself on the table nearby in frustration.

Adalind frowned sympathetically and sighed, rocking a now exhausted Diana. She passed when she felt something and found there was a note stuck into Diana’s jacket. “What’s this…?”

“What’s what?” Kelly asked, still frustrated.

She pulled it out and gasped, dropping it when she saw it had four roughly drawn claw marks over them. “Oh God…they were Black Claw…they really do know who we are…”

“…Your keeping things from me too, aren’t you?” Kelly said, picking up the note to bring it close.

“…I’m sorry, I just…wanted to talk to Meisner first…He came while you were gone. But talking to him, I know this is so much worse than I first thought…”

“…Start from the beginning,” Kelly ordered.

Adalind sighed and sat down, with her, ready to tell her just what they might be dealing with.

\-------------------

Doyle Baske had a clean record from what they could see. His family had owned the land out in the woods since the 1800s, being some of the oldest money in Portland but nothing truly outrageous. Doyle was single, no kids, and worked at the same real-estate firm for the last five years. All fairly normal.

“Something isn’t right here,” Nick sighed. “I know he’s supposedly our victim, but the way he was acting just irks me somehow…”

“No, yeah, it was weird,” Hank nodded.

“It gets weirder, of course,” Wu said, walking up to them with a laptop open in hand. “Got the lab work back on the blood samples taken from your victim's shirt.”

“Any dog?” Nick asked.

“No dog, all human,” Wu said, setting the laptop down. “But you were thinking there were two types...Victim and attacker?”

“Yeah, according to him, he was attacked by an assailant and his dog,” Hank nodded.

“Well, then it's kind of hard to explain the three different blood types when none of them are canine,” he said, showing the screen with three genome results.

“So he was attacked by two humans and no dog…” Nick said.

“Doesn't mean he wasn't attacked by a dog, just that the dog didn't bleed,” Hank said.

“Or the dog was Wesen,” Sloane said a little distractedly as she went over some notes. “Wesen blood shows up human, it woges and unwoges like them. Hair and other features taken when woged would show up differently, like an animal’s fur, unless it was also sampled for DNA.” She glanced up when they were quiet and shrugged. “There were several studies on it through the Library, I looked at them while I was also looking for information on the bone.”

“Can you show them to me next time we’re there?” Nick asked. She smiled and nodded.

“So we got a man and his Wesen loose in the woods?” Hank asked.

“Maybe. Check area hospitals. See if anybody came in with bite wounds, uh, between sundown and this morning,” Nick said to Wu.

“Yep,” he nodded, grabbing his laptop to go search.

“We might want to call Monroe and Rosalee,” Hank pointed out. “I think we better go back out there and see if we can retrace Doyle's steps.”

Nick nodded but paused when Sloane’s phone dinged. She looked at it and sighed. “Do that, I gotta go do something else real quick,” she said.

“Do what?”

She glanced around and leaned into them so they would do the same. “I asked Meisner to meet me in the garage. I’m going to ask him to track down Dierdre so we can find the trailer.”

“Hey, that’s a good idea,” Hank nodded. “Don’t want us there though?”

“Might get suspicious if all of us go at once. Call Monroe and Rosalee and I’ll meet you guys at the car.”

They nodded and she headed to the garage quickly. As she was walking deeper in she heard a rhythmic tapping from nearby and paused. Meisner stepped out then. “You said you wanted to trade information for a favor?”

Sloane nodded and reached into her pocket to hand him a piece of paper. “I need to find this woman. Given name is Dierdre Galperin, but she has dozens of aliases.”

Meisner took the paper and unfolded it to see it was a sketch. “…This is very well done, but photos work better.”

“She’s a Grimm, she doesn’t really do headshots,” Sloane said breezily.

“You’re looking for another Grimm?” he asked, confused.

“I’m looking for my mother.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised, looking at it again. “I see…you are worried about her?”

“Ha! No. Last time we met she poisoned me with a mind control drug and tried to get me to kill my friends. I’m worried about her being on the lose I guess you could say. Finally time to do something about her.”

“…I see…” He eyed her, knowing there was something more.

“…She also stole something important. A trailer that belonged to Nick’s aunt. We want to get it back,” she sighed.

“…Very well. I’ll see what we can do. But you said you had information you could trade for this favor.”

“Yeah…Renard is going to be running for mayor soon, with Black Claw backing him,” she said.

Meisner’s eyebrows went up but he didn’t look as surprised as she expected. “…I’m afraid I was just told this already.”

“What? You already found out?” she said, frowning.

“Yes. Adalind told me. It seems they also want him to…play the family man with her and Diana now. Good for looks. But she doesn’t want to.”

“…Huh…Well, he did say they threatened Adalind and Diana so he wasn’t in a position to say no…”

“Would he normally?”

“He said he doesn’t want power this way. I kind of believe him. He’s ambitious but he’s not ruthless…At least not anymore. I at least trust him more than I would anyone from Black Claw.” Meisner nodded slightly, knowing that part was true. “But Adalind’s powers are back, aren’t they?”

“Ah, you know that too…Yes. But…” He sighed and looking deep in thought a moment before looking at her. “The man in charge may be a very powerful Zauberbiest. Adalind called him a Warlock, a Zauberbiest that apparently gave up most ties to humanity…”

She frowned. “…Sounds bad. But this could give us an in.”

“What do you mean?”

“Renard wants to play double agent.”

Now he did look shocked. “I’m sorry?”

“He’s not stupid, he knows Black Claw is nuts and will do more harm than anything. He told me he wants to relay information to you guys. Through me.”

“…And you believe him?”

“You don’t?”

“The man has a history of double and triple dealing.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you of _Adalind’s_ history. You trust her.”

“…A faire point,” he sighed. “Then why does he not want to do it directly? Why go through you?”

“1) We work together and I’m his subordinate. Easier to pass me info without Black Claw getting suspicious or seeing…” She gestured at him and he sighed and nodded. “And 2) I think he’s a bit…resentful still about the whole “blaming him for Hanano’s death” thing. He doesn’t think you two can be professional anymore and not get into a fight. Or maybe that’s my take on it.”

“I see…” he said again, flat and less amused. “And does Nick know about this?”

Sloane flushed and sighed. “…They also don’t get along. History and all that.”

“So he doesn’t know?”

Sloane narrowed her eyes. “No. I tried to broach the topic but he said he doesn’t trust Renard well enough either. I’ll talk to him about it later.”

“…You hadn’t agreed to it yet?” he inquired.

“I’d rather hoped that the whole “Black Claw now trying to rig elections” would be enough of a trade to find Dierdre,” she said snidely. “But from what you said…We need to be all in this.”

He nodded slowly and sighed. “Agreed…But you know, I would’ve looked for her without a trade.”

She frowned. “For real?”

“For real. You are Trubel’s mentor, Adalind’s friend…Plus, I know you’d help me if I needed it.”

“Eh…yeah,” she said, nodding. She would, she was sure, but it was still a weird thing to admit.

Meisner’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out. “Adalind again…?”

“Sloane?”

She looked behind her when she heard Nick’s voice echoing through garage. “Looks like we’re ready to head out, did you want to talk to…him?” she finished, looking around at the empty air. “…How the hell is that man not a Grimm?” she muttered.

“Sloane?” Nick called out again.

“Over here!” she sighed, heading towards them.

Nick looked relieved as she walked up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just finishing up with Meisner…I’ll need to talk to you about something later.”

“…Ominous, but okay,” he said uncertainly. “So, we’re going to pick up Monroe and Rosalee on the way. You ready to go?”

She nodded and followed them back to the car to head out. They picked up their friends and then headed quickly to the woods and the spot where Doyle’s car had crashed. They got out of the car and Nick grabbed the bag with Doyle’s shirt he’d brought with him. He gestured to the tree as they all met near it, showing the indent where car smashed the bark off the tree. The car had been picked up hours ago so there was no one else around and the woods were deceptively quiet. “This is where he ran off the road, hit the tree. Uh, he said he went off in this direction…” Nick said, pointing up the road. “His mother's house is about 3 miles down the road.”

Monroe nodded, and then sighed in resignation. “Okay. Let me have it.”

Nick opened the evidence bag and held it out to him. Monroe flinched at the first initial waft then leaned in and took a deep inhale.

“I don't know how you do that. It would make me gag…” Rosalee said, grimacing.

“All right, I got it… And, yes, it would make you gag,” he agreed. He scented the air and started walking up the road, continuing to sniff as he went.

“I'll follow in the car,” Hank said, climbing back in.

Monroe walked slowly down the tarmac, focusing on the main scent of the shirt that had been underneath the scent of blood. He paused a few minutes in and frowned. “Hold on. I think...” He took another deep breath and turned from the road to the woods. While Nick held a handout to stop Hank’s slow roll behind them. “I think he went off the road.”

“You picking up on anything else, like the guy who attacked him? Or his dog?” Rosalee asked.

He took the half-step down to the leaf-littered floor, sniffing again. He shook his head. “Nah uh. Just Doyle so far.” He turned, continuing to follow the scent.

Rosalee and Sloane looked at each other, neither completely sure where this was going, but quickly followed him. Hank and Nick were close behind after he got out of the car.

It was a few minutes of walking through a very thin, muddy “trail” through the woods before they came to a large fallen tree. They could still step over it, but Monroe paused. “Guys...I got something new. I mean, in addition to Doyle,” he said, looking like he was smelling something particularly foul.

Rosalee’s face screwed up as well and she looked at him with resignation. “Ugh. I smell it too…”

“What is it?” Sloane asked.

“…Death.”

The detectives looked at one another before nodding to him and he wearily headed in the direction the sent was coming from. He stepped over the log but went off the track into the trees. Just a few feet away they could hear the dull buzz of flies and then even they could smell the scent of decaying bodies and old blood. They found the remains of two hikers laid out beneath a tree, their faces shredded nearly beyond recognition. One was a woman in bright pink parka, and a man was next to her in orange. The contents of their backpacks were scattered around them like an animal rifling through garbage, one of their metal walking sticks was bent practically in half, and there was a general sense of chaos in the air despite how neatly they were laid out.

“Doyle definitely wasn't lying about there being an attack…” Hank said.

“Yeah. But who attacked whom?” Nick queried, looking them over.

“Maybe these two were attacked by the guy and his dog too?” Rosalee said.

“No. No dog did this,” Sloane said, kneeling by them. “If it was, it’d have to be the size of a wolf. Or bigger.”

“Like you when you…?” Monroe trailed off when she gave him a look not to bring up her turning into a monster the right size for this. “Well…I do have a scent. It smells somewhat Blutbad-ian but not quite.”

“Doyle said he was attacked by a dog, so either he saw a Wesen, or he's lying,” Nick said, grabbing some gloves from his pocket and handing them to Sloane and Hank.

Monroe took another deep breath and turned slightly. “Scent's in this direction…”

“I’ll go with you,” Sloane said, standing. “You guys look over the bodies.”

Nick nodded and she and Rosalee followed Monroe back through the trees. Monroe paused a few minutes into their tracking though. “Wait a minute…”

“What?” Rosalee asked, alert. Sloane’s hand went up to her knife.

“This is the trail. Right? I mean, they would have been on the trail, if you're walking in the woods at night.”

They looked at one another and Sloane nodded. “Yeah, that stands to reason…They were dressed like hikers so they’d probably follow the trail.”

“Especially when there's a full moon…”

“Well, there was a full moon last night,” Rosalee said.

“That's what I'm saying! This wasn't a Blutbad!” He quickly went past them back up the trail and Sloane looked at Rosalee.

“You understand any of that?”

“Not…really,” she admitted.

“Good, at least it’s not just me.” They quickly followed him back to Nick and Hank.

“…Looks like there's blood on his teeth,” Nick was saying.

“Might explain the human bite marks Doyle had,” Hank nodded.

“Nick! Hank!” They looked up as Monroe jogged up to them. Sloane and Rosalee caught up to stand next to him. “Look, this is just a hunch, but last night was a full moon. Technically, it was the first night of the full moon, 'cause there's three nights of full moon. We could be dealing with...And I don't want anybody to panic...A Lycanthrope.”

Nick and Hank looked at Sloane, who shook her head. But Rosalee immediately looked pale. “Oh, my God.”

“…Is that a Wesen?” Hank asked.

Monroe grimaced, moving his head side to side in thought before finally waving his hand side to side as well. “Yes and no…”

\--------------

“That's a Lycanthrope,” Monroe said, setting the book down on the table. After calling in the scene in the woods for the ME and crime techs to work over and leaving Wu in charge, he’d brought them back to the spice shop to dig out one of his own books he’d brought over to mix with Rosalee’s collection. The book in question was old and leatherbound like their Grimm books, but documented various wesen maladies and conditions more in the vein of how to treat them than counter and kill them. The picture looked very much like a blutbad that woged, but also more animal like. A broader nose and cranial bone, more hair, longer ears…and even longer teeth. The other picture next to it showed the blutbad with its head tilted up to the moon, nearly naked, covered in hair and trying to walk on all fours.

“Is it a disease?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, it's a Wesen disease. Specific to Blutbader,” Monroe added with sigh.

Rosalee leaned in to read the passage out loud. “"Lycanthropia is a genetic mutation which presents itself on rare occasion in Blutbader. It's transmitted as a recessive trait which rarely affects the offspring. When Lycanthropia manifests physically, it's only during the three nights of the full moon."”

“Are we talking werewolves?” Hank asked, his eyes going wide.

“In a way…” Monroe nodded, looking a bit awkward.

“I thought regular Blutbader were the inspiration for them though?” Sloane asked. She wasn’t teasing or malicious, she was honestly curious and Monroe nodded.

“Also true, in a way, except most Blutbader in their right mind don’t just attack everything that moves. We still have our human mind unless we go into a frenzy. But Lycanthropes…It's a condition that makes Blutbader temporarily insane without any other outside effect acting on them except the full moon. Lunatics. They go feral, attacking anything and everything that moves.”

“And if anybody was to encounter one during a full moon, they would've definitely thought they were dealing with a werewolf,” Rosalee nodded.

His voice got quiet, a bit haunted by his next words, but also confused. “I heard stories growing up about Blutbader families that would kill their own children if they developed symptoms. So I thought this disease had been wiped out, like, 100 years ago.”

“And do we think Doyle is the Lycanthrope?” Nick asked.

“I'll tell you one thing... It ain't the two bodies we found, because nobody is taking down two Lycanthropes under a full moon without, like, a bazooka.”

“…I mean do we need one? Victoria might be able to get one for us,” Sloane said, trying to joke.

Monroe looked considering but Nick spoke up again. “Well, is there a cure?”

“I don't think so, but I'll check,” Rosalee said, not looking very hopeful. Monroe shook his head, not believing they would have any luck.

“Well, whoever this Lycanthrope is, if they're affected during the full moon...Then we've got two more nights of this,” Hank pointed out.

“And if it is Doyle, he'll kill again tonight,” Nick nodded.

“Wait, time out,” Sloane said, making a T with her hands before they grabbed their jackets. “You said this condition comes out when they’re kids?”

“I mean…usually, yeah,” Monroe nodded.

“Then his mother must know. Some kind of precaution must’ve been taken before now or we’d have a lot more unexplained deaths,” Sloane pointed out.

“Maybe that’s why he was heading out to see her,” Nick said.

“Could we ask her? Figure it out that way?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” Monroe said, sucking in a breath. “If she’s been protecting him this long, who knows what she’ll do when she realizes you know…”

“If we can avoid confronting her that might be best,” Nick sighed. “If she’s a Blutbad she might attack us and then we’d be in a lot of trouble if we had to…”

“Okay, yes, fair enough,” she sighed.

“I’m glad you were thinking of a peaceful way out,” Nick said, putting a hand on her shoulder. She smiled back, happy at the praise at least.

\-----------------

“Doyle said he was attacked by a man and his dog,” Nick said, addressing Renard.

“But we found the body of a man and a woman. No dog,” Hank said.

“How'd you find them?” Renard asked, looking at the photos.

“We followed their scent,” Nick said.

“Did you use dogs?”

“No…”

“We used Monroe,” Sloane said.

He quirked a brow and sighed. “We're not gonna tell that to the DA, are we?”

“Monroe's convinced that we're dealing with a Lycanthrope,” Nick said. “You heard of them?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it's the basis for the werewolf myth…”

“And tonight will be the second of three nights of the full moon,” Hank said.

“So we're thinking, if Doyle is a Lycanthrope, we bring him in and lock him up. See what happens.”

“And what if it's not him?” Renard said. “He's from an old family. They're well-connected. You might open yourselves up to false arrest or worse.”

“Well, what if we're right?” Nick said, trying not to get impatient.

“Then you'll be dealing with a raving Lycanthrope in a jail cell,” he said blandly.

“Better than on the street,” Hank said.

“I’ve got another location we can bring him to,” Sloane said.

“Another location?” Renard asked, quirking a brow.

“Grimms have their own resources. It’s a holding cell in a secure location we have access to now, we can get him there secretly. We can say we’re bringing him because…the blood on his shirt made him our prime suspect.”

“Does it?”

“Waiting on the results,” Nick said.

“…And if he’s not the lycanthrope?” Renard asked.

“…Well…” Sloane said, uncertain.

He sighed. “At the risk of having a dangerous wesen woge here, it might be better to bring him here first and do something about him in the isolation cell than risk him really not being a wesen and…facing kidnapping charges.”

“Damn, thought I had something…” she sighed.

“If he's what you think he is, his mother would know about it.”

“We figured on that too. Could be why he was out there last night,” Hank said.

“We think it’s probably why he didn't stick around to deal with the car,” Nick added.

He nodded slowly before sighing. “All right, go ahead. Just don't charge him. Hold him overnight, forge the documents here and take him to your secure location. I guess you'll know in a few hours.” There was a knock at the door. “Yeah?”

Wu came in with a folder in hand. “Got the lab report back on the Kriminskis. Blood types match those found on Doyle's shirt,” he said, handing the folder to Renard to look over.

“We've got three hours until it gets dark,” Hank said, looking at his watch.

“You better hurry then,” Renard said.

They nodded and headed out of the office. Wu followed, and spoke quietly once they were heading to their desks. “So this is Wesen?”

“Yeah,” Nick nodded.

“What are we dealing with?”

“A Lycanthrope.”

“What is that?” he asked, frowning.

“Like a Blutbad on steroids,” Hank said.

“Oh…fun.”

“Not so much. He’s going to lose control of himself come sundown and be basically a rabid killer without even realizing it,” Sloane said.

“And you want to bring him _here?_ ” he hissed.

“We’re going to put him in the isolation cell.”

“And you think that’s going to cut it?”

“Just in case, let’s call Monroe and Rosalee. It would be awkward if we dosed him wrong…” Nick said. “Plus, maybe there’s a cure?”

\--------------

There was no cure.

At least none they could find that wasn’t a very permanent, bury them in the ground kind. But Rosalee agreed to bring a double dose of Schlaftrunk to be safe. Sloane called Victoria and let her know they needed to use the cells and she agreed to have their entrance ready.

When they went to pick Doyle up, his mother answered the door. They could tell she was hiding something when she didn’t want them to come inside. When they told Doyle he needed to come with them to look over some information regarding the two dead people, he tried to brush them off saying that he had dinner plans that night. His mother tried to push back as well when they said it couldn’t wait. They said they’d hopefully have him back by 7—figuring if he didn’t transform they could get him back by then—but she said that was too late. It surprised them then when Doyle assured her it was alright. He said he needed to get his jacket and went back inside. Mrs. Baske seemed very distraught, threatening to call their lawyer, but they just reminded her she couldn’t close the door. Nick moved back a bit to look around, and when he looked inside he saw Doyle running out the back door.

“He's running!” Nick shouted. Hank and Sloane rushed to try and go around the side while Nick rushed through the door and past Mrs. Baske.

“This is private property!” she yelled, panic in her voice.

Sloane managed to get around first and saw Doyle vault over the back fence that was a little over six feet high. Nick was close behind him but with a push Sloane jumped and cleared the fence with little effort, rolling when she landed because it was steeper on the other side. Her adaptation from being a beast was still coming in handy. She got back into running and tackled him to the ground just as Hank was rushing through from the other side. He helped her wrestle him up and get his arms around while Nick handcuffed him.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Doyle shouted. “Come on, guys! You cannot take me in!”

“Why?” Nick said, helping Hank haul him up when Sloane got out of the way.

“Because my mother is out here all alone!”

“Why'd you run?” Hank asked.

“Because I got attacked! You had just told me that two people got murdered!”

“Then why are you running? If you’re scared you should tell us,” Sloane said.

“I’m not scared! I just can’t leave her alone w-with a killer out there! Please, I have to be here!”

As he spoke, thunder rumbled overheard and rain started pouring down again. Nick pulled him along back towards the cars.

“Stop it!” Mrs. Baske yelled, coming out to follow them. “He didn't do anything!”

“Ma'am, stay out of this, and don't make it worse than it already is,” Hank said.

“Why are you taking him!?” she said.

“Evidence from your son’s shirt places him at the attack. We need to talk to him about that. Contact your lawyer if you want, have him meet us at the station when he’s ready,” Sloane said, getting into the car. They backed out of the drive, watching a very worried Mrs. Baske in the review mirror.

\--------------------

“Someone tried to kidnap Diana?” Meisner asked darkly.

“Yes. I guess they thought the blind nanny would be easy to get past…” Kelly said bitterly.

“Kelly, you protected her, you did great,” Adalind said.

“They never should’ve even tried it. I’m trying, but…I don’t know. Maybe it’s age too,” she sighed. “I’m not as adaptable as Nick was when he had to deal with that Jinnamuru Xunte…He talked about his hearing getting better and mine did, but I’m still…lacking, it feels. Maybe I’m just too old to learn something new…”

“…I’m sorry, Kelly,” Meisner said honestly.

She sighed and waved a hand. “It’s…what it is. We need to focus on what happened. They’re getting bold and my guess is trying to put pressure on Adalind to go with Renard.”

“Sean doesn’t have anything to do with this attempt though, I’m sure…I’m going to tell him, but I wanted to know what you thought,” Adalind said.

Meisner sighed. “…Susannah and I will start taking shifts to watch you and your house. We’ll get Trubel to help when she is here. We will protect you all.”

“But how long? You can’t just drop all your other missions for us.”

“We will do it enough so that we can stop them and keep you from getting mixed up with whatever they plan for Renard. Renard…has said that he wishes to provide information to us from inside Black Claw. We can hopefully use this to get them to stop soon.”

“Sean’s doing that?”

“That’s what he says. Or what Sloane says he says. I’m not sure I trust him…”

“…Sean…doesn’t like being a pawn. I don’t think he’ll go over to their side completely. That being said, Hexen and Zauberbiests are attracted to power…I can’t deny I would be tempted in his shoes.”

Meisner hummed, agreeing that the temptation might be great. “We’re going to do everything we can to keep you all safe. And I know that you can take care of any threats as well, Kelly, whatever you say.”

Kelly didn’t look convinced but sighed and nodded.

\--------------------------------

It took them an hour and a half to get him to the precinct and into a cell, Doyle arguing the whole time. The sun was starting to dip low and it was going to be night soon. Monroe and Rosalee arrived with the drugs and Nick’s doppelarmbrust crossbow with the hollow arrows filled with sedative.

Before they went to watch Doyle though, Nick’s phone rang with an unknown number. “Hello?”

“Has she told you yet?”

Nick froze. “Eve?”

They all looked up and Sloane tensed at the name.

“Has Sloane told you yet?”

“…Told me what?” he asked, glancing at her.

“About Renard and Black Claw.”

“What?” he asked.

“I just finished searching Rachael Wood’s house. I got the added proof I need, but Sloane offered additional information. You should talk to her.” She hanged up and Nick looked at Sloane before grabbing her hand.

“Wh-hey! Nick?”

“We need to talk. You guys come too.” They looked at one another but Monroe grabbed the suitcase he’d put the crossbow and darts in and followed them to an interrogation room. Once there, Nick looked at Sloane. “What’s this about Renard working with Black Claw?”

“What?” the others all asked.

Except for Sloane, who sighed and looked put out. “She told you that?”

“You knew?” he said, sounding a little accusatory.

“Yes! I was going to tell you, but then all the Lycanthrope stuff happened…”

“What is this exactly?” Rosalee asked.

She sighed. “Renard says that after the shooting, Black Claw made it so he’d find Hanano near the hospital. They were banking on Hanano dying so Renard could look like a hero and then take Dixon’s place in the election. To become mayor. They convinced the governor to have the special election starting after New Year’s.”

“Mayor Renard? For real?” Monroe asked, shocked.

“Yes. But he didn’t know about it till after Hanano was dead.”

“You’re sure about that?” Nick asked, unsure.

“Yes!”

“And when did you find out?”

“…Around then…” she said hesitantly.

“That was weeks ago!”

“I know, okay? But he told me told me that he wanted to be a double agent and go through me to get the info to Hadrian’s Wall.”

“Whoa, okay, start from the beginning,” Hank said before Nick snapped.

She sighed and sat on the table. “Renard found out that Rachael Wood helped facilitate Dixon’s shooting. When he confronted her, she said this was their plan and they wanted Renard to run for Mayor. The hero that killed his friend’s murderer, running to make Dixon’s dream a reality. But they really wanted him to run with Black Claw’s interests in mind.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Tell me sooner?” Nick asked.

“I tried to, but you admitted yourself you have trouble trusting Renard! I got…worried about opening a can of worms. That you’d go confront him. Because you would. And then that might cause more trouble.” Nick frowned a bit but didn’t argue. “He said so too, that you’d probably resist the idea.” He frowned even deeper that Renard knew him that well but sighed and crossed his arms. She frowned as well and put a hand on his arm. “Yes, I should’ve told you sooner. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go through with it till I talked with Meisner earlier today. He already knew about it too.”

“But why would he play double agent?” Rosalee asked. “Why would he join a group of people that killed his friend?”

“…They know about Adalind and Diana,” Sloane said. They all looked surprised and then anxious. “Renard said they threatened them then, and Meisner said they’re putting more pressure on him to get her onboard with him. They want her to join him and play a family. He’s certain they killed Dixon in the hospital to leave his path open and make a point that they can get to people he cares about. He doesn’t think he can say no so he figured maybe he could put it to good use. But that meeting with Meisner directly could send up red flags so…we figured I could be the go between here at work. Less suspicious if he’s talking to a subordinate about a case, supposedly.”

“…I don’t like it,” Nick said.

She sighed, trying not to get impatient. “I know, I’m not a fan either. But I think at this point I should go through with it. The sooner we take them down the better.” He was quiet and she stood up and put both her hands on his biceps. “Nick, I know it’s not the best situation. But this might be our best channel to get real info on Black Claw. None of us can get on the inside: they know Monroe and Rosalee, we’re Grimms, and everyone else is human. Renard is our only lead.”

“She’s right, Nick, it’s a good opportunity,” Rosalee said.

“…Fine,” he sighed. “I know, but I just…worry. With Renard…”

“I get it,” she smiled. “It’s just information though. Till we get something concrete enough we can make a move. You trust me even if you don’t trust him, right?”

“…I do,” he sighed. “But no more keeping something like that from me, for whatever reason. We’re in this together, right?”

She smiled. “Right…together. I’ll share all the info with you too, I promise. Was going to anyway, regardless of what Renard said, but since I wasn’t sure I’d even do it I just kind of…let it go. I was going to tell you tonight. I’m not trying to keep things from you, I promise.” Nick smiled relaxing a little as they looked at one another.

Hank cleared his throat and they blushed as she pulled away. “Well…Glad we got that out in the open.”

“I was going to tell you all after the case, I swear. But the Lycanthrope thing seemed like a priority,” she said.

“Speaking of which, we should probably get to that cell, the sun’s going to set any minute,” Monroe said, looking at his perfectly timed watch.

“Right,” Nick nodded.

“…Why did Eve call you to tell you that?” Rosalee asked.

“Stirring the pot like a Hexenbiest, it feels like,” Sloane muttered bitterly. For someone supposedly devoid of emotion, it felt rather petty.

They headed to the holding cells, pausing around the corner from the isolated cell. “

“I think we can start with one,” Monroe whispered, opening the case.

“That should be enough,” Rosalee agreed. He took a bolt and locked it into place, nodding to the others. They rounded the corner, ready to fire, only to be met with an empty cell.

“What the hell?” Hank gasped.

Nick’s phone rang while they were staring in confusion and dread at the neatly made cot. “Wu?”

“Hey, where are you? I just found out they bailed out Doyle,” Wu said urgently.

“Yeah, I know. We're at his cell,” Nick said. “How long ago?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

Nick looked at the others. “He could still be in the building.”

“That's what I'm thinking,” Wu agreed. They hanged up, getting back into action. Monroe put the crossbow back in the suitcase and followed them.

Nick got out to the bullpen and scanned the crowd before zeroing in on the slightly dirty sweater. He was walking towards the exit. “Doyle!”

He looked up and glared as they moved towards him, still walking. “I've been bailed out. I don't know what the hell you're doing.”

“Exit interview,” Hank said, grabbing his arm.

“Hey, get your hands off of me! I said I've been bailed out!”

Sloane quickly got them to another interrogation room. “In here.”

Hank practically threw Doyle in and they all quickly got inside. Doyle tried to push his way out before the door was closed. “You don't understand. I have to leave!”

“We're not too late. He hasn't woged yet,” Rosalee said. Monroe opened the case and pulled out the crossbow, leveling it at him.

Doyle backed up, paling. “Oh, my God! What the hell is that?”

“Take him down,” Nick ordered.

Doyle’s eyes widened and he woged then, finally, into a blutbad, his red eyes almost glowing in the dim light from the single lamp overhead. He bared his teeth and growled, getting ready for a fight.

“Take him down now!” Sloane said.

Monroe was staring with wide eyes before Rosalee quickly pushed his arm holding the crossbow down. “He's not a Lycanthrope!”

Red eyes widened and then he dewoged, looking at them all. “You know? You…you’re Grimms?”

“Yeah, we do…They are…” Monroe said.

“But you are not what we thought you were,” Rosalee said.

“Okay, if he's not the Lycanthrope, then who the hell is?” Wu said.

Nick’s brain was turning and he looked to Sloane, who looked equally grim when she came to the conclusion.

“Are you sure we're looking for a Lycanthrope?” Hank asked as they did.

“I'm sure,” Monroe said, serious.

“Yeah, but he's not it,” Rosalee said, much more panicky.

“You don't understand,” Doyle said, looking pained.

“It's his mother,” Nick and Sloane said together.

They looked at them, and then back at Doyle. “You said it was a dog that attacked you,” Hank accused.

“I said that to protect her!” he said. “What else could I say? I knew exactly what was gonna happen. I ran as fast as I could, and then I heard the screams, but I got there too late. She was attacking those two people, and I tried to stop her, but I couldn't…That is how I got so bloody. But then she came after me. So I ran towards the highway. I-I fell down an embankment. I must've hit my head…I don't remember anything that happened after that.” He looked at them, turning desperate. “But listen, if you guys know what a Lycanthrope is, then you know what I’m talking about. My mother cannot stop herself. She doesn't know what she's doing. And I've got to get back out there, or she will kill again!”

They nodded and quickly put the crossbow away, rushing out to the cars with Doyle. They drove with sirens and lights to the woods, racing along the rain-slick asphalt dangerously fast but expertly handled. Once they got there, they all got out and started arming themselves.

“There's a room downstairs that she will have tried to lock herself in,” Doyle said.

“It didn't work so good last night,” Hank pointed out.

“She didn't know that I wasn't gonna be here last night,” he said testily. “The bar on the outside is what really keeps her contained and she can’t set it in place from inside.”

“Can I have the crossbow?” Nick asked. Monroe nodded and handed it to him.

“H-hey, you can't shoot my mother with that!”

“It's a tranquilizer,” Nick said.

“And they’re small dart-arrows,” Sloane added.

“It'll just knock her out,” Rosalee clarified. “I hope,” she added under her breath, looking at Monroe with a bit of trepidation.

He hesitated but finally sighed. “Fine.”

They nodded and looked to Rosalee, Wu and Monroe. “You three stay out here just in case,” Nick said.

They nodded, trying not to be too nervous.

“This room, it’s been here a while?” Sloane asked.

“Yeah. My great, great, great uncle was also a Lycanthrope…rather than kill him, they tried to keep him locked up during the moon.”

“Did it work?” Hank asked.

“For a while…till he killed his nephew. He was a kid, didn’t understand why his favorite uncle was locked up every month, snuck down here and…well, they caught him, but killed himself after that. I-I don’t want that happening to my mom. Dad…Dad knew how to handle her best. It got worse after he died and I just…I should’ve moved back out here…”

As they went down the basement steps, they came into view of a padded door lying on the ground, the padded room it led to empty. There were claw marks along the walls, ripping white stuffing from them, and chains one wall as well but they hadn’t been secured. It looked instead like someone had tried to use duct tape to secure a person, but it’d been ripped apart by teeth from the looks of the bite marks.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Doyle said, rushing over. “We're too late…Without the door being barred from the outside, there was no way that this room was gonna contain her.”

They froze and looked up when they heard a long, baleful howl in the distance. It wasn’t close, but neither was it far away if they could hear it. “Oh hell!” Sloane cursed, rushing for the stairs with the men close behind.

The others were standing close to one another, looking around as the howling continued. “You heard it too?” Rosalee asked.

“Yeah!” Nick said.

“It came from that direction,” Monroe said, tilted his head towards the hills by the house.

“Are we going out there?” Wu asked uncertainly.

“You guys... look, please, this is my mother. You cannot shoot her,” Doyle begged.

“She's hunting again,” Rosalee said impatiently.

“What do you not understand? She can't help it!”

“Tell that to the two people she killed last night,” Hank grit out.

“He’s right, Doyle. If there’s someone else out in the woods or if she comes at us, we’re defending ourselves,” Sloane said, taking her knife out. “You’re mom’s not going to want to keep killing either...”

He flinched, looking near panic, and Nick put a hand on his shoulder. “I'll try to tranquilize her, I promise but if that doesn't work...” The howling picked up again and they nodded to one another. “Let's go.”

They all headed up towards the hills, Wu bringing his shotgun while Hank kept his standard issue out and ready. Monroe got to the front, scenting the air as they pushed their way through the dense underbrush. At the top of the hill he threw out a hand. “Wait, wait, wait, wait! We just crossed her path.” He woged and breathed deeply, moving around the small clear space they had found and nodding. “This way. Oh, yeah. She is really strong here,” he said, dewoging.

Rosalee turned to scent the air as well then did a double take. “Doyle's not here. He's gone!”

They all looked around, cursing that they’d lost him in the dark woods. “He's gonna warn his mom…” Wu said.

“You don't warn a Lycanthrope,” Monroe said, frustration bubbling up.

Wu looked around and then clicked the safety off his shotgun. “Want me to go back after him?”

“We should probably keep him alive if we can,” Sloane sighed.

“I'll go with you,” Hank nodded, cocking his gun. They started back through the woods while the others continued on. Nick opted to give the crossbow back to Monroe and pull out his gun.

It was only a few minutes later though they heard shouts and gunfire. They turned, heart rates ramping up. “She must have circled back!” Nick shouted. They started running, working to keep their footing in the slick muddy ground as they followed the sounds of guns, then of growls and Wu shouting. Sloane could see him on the ground, his gun across the small clearing after being grabbed and thrown in the attack, and Eliza Baske in her woged, wolf-like form advancing on him. She looked even more wolf-like than most blutbad, with a long buzzle and large, dripping fangs shining past her curled lips. Her clothes were still on, but they’d ripped along the seams as she grew larger. Her long claws were swiping at Wu, who was just barely keeping out of her range by scuttling on his back into the brush. But he was running out of room and she was close to grabbing him.

Doyle was running towards them, but Sloane put on a burst of speed and slammed into her first, knocking her back across the ground. She yelped in surprise, shaking her head as if dazed. Sloane glared, feeling her head splitting apart as her vision got bright enough it seemed like day. She bared her own teeth, her growl almost animal like as she flipped her knife around for a slicing motion. Before she could advance though, someone else got into her line of sight, another blutbad. “Stop!” Doyle shouted.

Sloane staggered, her momentum lost and her brain returning to normal. She felt a little blood run from her nose and Nick rushed over to grab her and keep her steady. “Doyle!” he warned.

“She’s down!” He jumped when he heard a growl, turning to see his mother standing. She growled, focusing on Sloane now, but Doyle got into her line of vision and growled back, trying to keep her occupied. She turned to him, snarling, seeing him as a threat.

“Tranquilize her now!” Hank said.

“No, it doesn't take immediate effect! It'll just provoke her!” Monroe said.

Doyle and Eliza moved around one another, sizing each other up before he held out his hands. “Mom! Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, it's okay.” He woged back. “It's okay. It's okay. It's me. It's Doyle. It's your son. It's okay.” She stopped growling a moment, looking at him in confusion. “I-I need you to listen to me, okay? I've got this,” he said, glancing back at them then quickly back to her. “Mom, you're not gonna hurt me.”

She was quiet a moment before her lips curled back and she snarled, rushing him. He gasped as she tacked him, opening her jaws to rip out his throat.

“No, no, no!”

They open fired, striking Eliza several times. She tried to jump up but whined and then collapsed.

Doyle gasped, shaking. “Oh, God…no…” He got to his hands and knees and crawled over to her. “No, mom…”

She groaned, looking up at him and then dewoging back to her human form. “You’re…okay…?”

“Don’t-don’t talk mom, we’ll get help!”

She sighed, shaking her head minutely. “…I'm…sorry,” she breathed, before closing her eyes.

Doyle stared a moment before woging and howling, a long mournful note echoing up to the sky. Then another, trailing off as he turned back and clutched her close, sobbing. “Mom…”

The others looked at one another, sighing because it didn’t feel like they’d killed a monster. But they knew that one way or another it was going to end in tragedy and at least one member of the family was alive…

\--------------------

In the end, it was Wu who suggested that they say Eliza was attacked by the same man who attacked the two hikers. That they could explain the blood on Doyle’s sweater as that same attacker going after him after killing them and that the blood got transferred over. This way, no wesen were implicated in the crime.

Doyle was angry at first, more so when they apologized and meant it. He didn’t talk to them for hours while crime techs and paramedics came to the scene. But he admitted by the time they took his mother’s body away that they’d saved his life and that’s what she’d have preferred. He at least didn’t hold a grudge enough to state that the attacker had also come for him and had killed his mother in front of him before running off when he heard the police cars coming. The case would remain unsolved since the mystery man with the dog didn’t actually exist, but his mother’s reputation was intact and Doyle vowed that the Baske family would end with him. No more Lycanthrope genes passed down. He’d already had no interest in children anyway he said so it wasn’t a sacrifice to him.

No one knew that Wu had gotten a scratch. Even when he found out, he thought he’d gotten off pretty easy considering how close Eliza came to tearing him apart like a pinata. And he didn’t even remember the fever or strange dreams that plagued him with the moon watching him through the window…

\---------------------------------

It was a few days later when Sloane was at the Spice shop for lunch with Rosalee, tucking into some sub sandwiches and chips she picked up on the way. “We finished copying the Lycanthrope entry—I’ll give that book back before I go.”

“Great…You know, I wonder sometimes if we did all we could,” she sighed, munching on her chips slowly.

“Yeah,” Sloane agreed. “We managed to help that Krampus before, but Mrs. Baske was almost worse in a way…Having to go through that every month. Maybe we just should’ve told Doyle our suspicions out right. If he was human we could’ve just played it off somehow…”

“He probably would’ve gotten defensive. He thought he had to protect his mother after all. We might’ve ended up fighting him and things would’ve been worse…”

“I know you’re right but it sucks not knowing for sure,” she sighed. “But in that case, you can’t blame yourself. With no known cure, there’s no way you’d have figured out one by that evening.”

She smiled sadly and nodded, knowing she was right. “Well…I’m going to look into it on the side I think. It would be nice to have another option if we come across one again.”

“Yeah…You know, Victoria might be able to help. She was a doctor before and seems to have a lot of contacts still.”

“That’s good…maybe you should got to a doctor though. You used that ability again, the one that gives you a headache bad enough your nose bleeds…”

“I’m fine,” Sloane said flatly.

“You almost fainted,” she shot back.

“Ugh, you sound like Nick,” she sighed. “He babied me all night when we got home…”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“…Didn’t say that,” she muttered. “But I just slipped into it wanting to protect Wu…If I could do it without the headache I could’ve confirmed Doyle was a wesen and we could’ve gotten this sorted out,” she added bitterly.

“Sloane, we’re serious…what if you keel over from it one day? Turn into a vegetable or worse?”

“…Nick wants me to see about getting checked out too,” she sighed. “I’ll consider it but I’m not sure any doctor, even one who knows about Grimms, is going to be of much help. I’ve never heard of this sort of thing before. Plus, after we treated him, Nick’s PTZD ended up being a good thing…”

“Yeah, but it did kind of lead to what happened to you too…” She took a sip of her tea and then smiled. “So…how’s it going with Nick?”

Sloane blushed and swallowed the last bite of her sandwich. “Good…”

“Just good?” she asked.

“…Ye..no…” She sighed and leaned into her hands with her elbows on the table. “I don’t know…”

Rosalee frowned worriedly. “Are you guys not getting along?”

“No, we get along great,” Sloane said quickly. “We worked out the Renard thing and all that…we’re staying professional at work. And at home we hug and kiss and…” She cleared her throat, blushing a little. “So on…”

Rosalee smiled at how flustered she looked. “Okay…but?”

“…We haven’t said…the thing, since that night.”

“The thing?”

“The…y’know… _thing_ …” she said awkwardly. “The love thing…”

“Oh! Oh…not even when…?” she made a vague gesture of her hands coming together.

She blushed. “Th-that’s different, isn’t it? I mean, that’s…a lot already happening. Emotions running high. Would that even count?”

“I think it does…but you want to say it when you’re not…in bed?”

 _Not always the bed…_ “Y-yeah…”

“And not saying it worries you?” she asked sympathetically.

“Well…just recently when I realized it. I mean how we got together was kind a of heat of the moment sort of thing and I just…wonder if maybe we rushed things. We still haven’t even been on an actual date…”

“Still?” she asked, surprised.

“Stuff keeps coming up,” she sighed. “Cases, wesen things, Grimm things… In fact a trunk from Nick’s dad should be arriving soon so that’s probably going to be our evenings for a while.”

“Nick’s dad?”

“Yeah, Dr. Hier found out his dad was actually researching the Templars and Grimms. He wasn’t a Grimm but I guess Kelly got him access to the info.”

“Wow…But he died when Nick was young, right?”

“Yeah…that’s part of why I figure it’s going to take a few nights,” she sighed. “I don’t want to push him through it…Going through Oma’s stuff was rough on me in a lot of ways…”

She smiled sadly. “Yeah…but still, you guys need a date night!”

“Well even if we’re free, we’re usually tired from everything else and opt to stay in. Which is fine, I like that, but…”

“But it’d be nice to go do something special together that didn’t involve hunting or research or your job?” she guessed.

“Yeah. And I want to say the thing, but…I haven’t done much of either in my life. To be honest, I’ve said it twice…maybe three times to Nick, and that still might be more than I’ve said to anyone but my grandmother while still meaning it…And Diedre definitely messed it up a bit…but I want to…”

“Oh sweety,” Rosalee said sadly. “So why don’t you?”

“…I’m…it’s embarrassing,” she admitted. “I’m a grown woman getting flustered by this…”

“Oh,” Rosalee said, standing and going over to hug her. Sloane frowned, blushing more. “You’re so cute sometimes…”

“Are you for real?” she asked blandly.

“Yes.” She laughed and pulled back, chuckling at Sloane’s embarrassed pout. “Everyone’s nervous starting a new relationship. I think you and Nick need to talk and agree on a date night. I think you need to do some couple things, really start getting into it. Spend quality time together. Like our lunches but more romantic.”

“…And you want me to bring it up?” she asked dubiously.

“Well someone has to. And he’s probably nervous too.” She looked questionable and Rosalee smiled. “Just ask him. I’m sure he’s been wanting to go do something too. Maybe you need to give each other the opportunity. Besides, you fight blood thirsty wesen on the regular! How hard could this be?”

“Harder than it should be…” she sighed.

“…Okay, yes, it probably is harder considering you trained for years in the fighting…thing, and this is much newer. You just need to figure out your groove,” she said comfortingly.

Sloane smiled a little because it did make her feel better in a way. “Thanks, Rosalee…”

She smiled and hugged her back. “Thanks, Rosalee…” She sighed and pulled back, looking at her phone. “I should probably go though; we’re picking up that trunk tonight and I got some work to finish.”

“Okay, drive safe,” she said, waving as she headed out the door.

When Sloane got to the precinct she paused in heading to her desk and instead headed to Renard’s office. She knocked on the door and he motioned her inside. “Larson…what can I do for you?”

“…I’d like this to stay private between us, sir,” she said meaningfully.

His brow ticked up but he nodded. “It’s safe. I’ve gotten into the habit of checking when I come in to make sure there are no bugs. Technological or otherwise.”

“Otherwise?”

“I can’t use much magic on my own, but I did at least inherit the ability to sense it,” he said.

“Ah, got it…” She sighed a bit and sat down. “…Did you think of a way past what Black Claw wants?”

He sighed and shook his head. “No…not without putting Diana and Adalind at risk...In fact, they already tried something.”

“Are they okay?” Sloane asked, surprised and concerned.

“Yes, Kelly kept them from getting Diana. But it’s shaken them a bit. Meisner is going to watch them, but I’m both angry and resigned that my options are saying no and making things worse or saying yes and dealing with them directly…”

“…Meisner mentioned he thinks the one in charge is a Zauberbiest. A warlock.”

He nodded. “Yes. So, my blood being so weak, I’m not much of a threat to him. So option two is my best bet. In fact, they plan to announce my running in the special election New Year’s Day.”

“That soon?”

“With only a little over six months to prepare they want to do it soon. Plus they were ready weeks ago. I can’t put them off longer.”

“…Okay. I talked it over with Meisner and I’m going to be your go between, like you said.”

He sighed, looking honestly relieved. “Good…we’ll work out the details soon then.”

“I also told Nick and the others.”

He looked less happy at that. “I thought I said I didn’t want him in on this?”

“He’s a detective, he’s going to figure out something’s up. Eve sort of spilled the beans too,” she sighed.

“She figured it out?” he asked, confused.

“Well, I told Meisner, but then she said she saw a poster?” Sloane said uncertainly.

“…That was at my house…” he said, narrowing his eyes.

“…I have a feeling everyone knew one way or another,” she said.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Great…well, that has to stop.”

“I’m keeping Nick in the loop.”

“Sloane—”

“We’re living together, I can’t exactly play cloak and dagger all the time,” she groused.

“…Well, Adalind will likely be moving in with me if you want your house back.”

“No, we’re pretty happy—” Sloane straightened. “…So that’s also true? You need to be a “happy family”?”

“Yes. They even got a ring for me to give her. When she didn’t say yes right away, that’s when they tried to kidnap Diana.”

“…You know, I don’t know if I see the logic in that plan.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a police captain—maybe not the most public office but I still feel like they’re going to ask where the wife and kid came from when you didn’t have them last month?”

“…I brought that up too. I was told “We’ll handle anyone that questions it.””

“…Not liking that.”

“Me neither…”

“What about Kelly? They think she’ll just leave Adalind and Diana alone?””

“I’m afraid they either don’t know about her or didn’t know till the other day—but they haven’t mentioned her. I doubt she’d work with them so she’d probably be put in danger if she tried anything…I would like to convince her to move somewhere else. Maybe back with Nick?”

“…Maybe…But I won’t be moving out. It’s better to stay with Nick at the moment. I’m only intending to make sure we have enough info to subvert Black Claw together with Hadrian’s Wall. And even if I did want to move, it might draw attention if I moved into her old house.”

“…Fair enough I suppose. But I doubt he trusts me.”

“Oh no, he definitely is suspicious. So’s Meisner. But I’m not in the mood to play peace maker so we’re leaving it at that.”

“You’re not suspicious?”

Sloane stared at him with a look that made him sweat a little and think he needed her to conduct more interrogations, but then she shrugged. “To be honest, while I know you did bad things in the past, and you can be a tad bit…calculating, you’ve never given me a reason not to trust you. Only time was when you were possessed and I don’t consider that your fault.”

“…Thank you. I do appreciate that,” he said honestly.

She nodded and stood. “I’ll leave you to figure out how this is going to work then.”

“Right. Speaking of which, I believe you have another case.”

“For real?” she said.

“Yes. Likely Wu and the others are waiting for you now.”

They were indeed, having watched her go into Renard’s office. Nick had frowned and Hank patted him on the back while they waited for them to finish up. “Careful Nick or people might think you don’t like our Captain.”

“I have a healthy amount of skepticism,” Nick said dryly.

“Just saying, she might get the feeling you don’t trust her.”

“I trust her,” he defended. “I just don’t trust him…not completely, even if he has done a lot for us…” He sighed and sat back. “I don’t know, maybe I am a little on edge when I see her with him…”

“Why?”

“…It reminds me of what went on between him and Juliette…” he said quietly.

“Oh, it’s that kind of trust?” Hank said.

“No, I—I don’t distrust her. I just…we’re still figuring a few things out,” he sighed.

“Is it not going well?” Hank asked worriedly.

“No, it’s going well. We’re going well,” he said, smiling a little. “Just…”

“Just?”

“…When we got together, we both said…you know…I love you.” One of the officers paused, looking at the two of them with raised brows and Nick blushed.

Hank just waved at him. “No one’s talking to you, Wilson, keep moving.” He frowned and rolled his eyes as he passed by and Hank leveled his gaze back at him. “So, you guys have said that since?”

“Not really…I mean, I know she feels that way and I try to show her I feel that way too, but it’s…I get this panic saying it, I don’t know why…and she hasn’t said it either…”

“Hey man, you went through a rough…break up less than a year ago,” Hank said sympathetically. “I know after my divorce, I was also pretty anxious about starting something new too. And Sloane’s probably feeling the same way. Just…ease into it. There’s no set rules to this, remember?”

“I guess so,” he sighed. “I do want to go on an actual date though…”

“You haven’t gone on a date?” he said, disbelieving.

“Things keep coming up,” he sighed. “Plus everything was crowded because of Christmas…We have nice nights at home and did some holiday stuff. She taught me some Hanukkah traditions. Oh, we did a gift exchange last night—I got her a book press she was eyeing and all the stuff she needs with it because she wants to fix up some of her old books, so I also got like the best book on bookbinding I could find. And she framed an autographed picture of Elvis for me.”

“Autographed Elvis?” Hank said, surprised.

“Yeah, she found it in her grandmother’s stuff, showed me the part in her journal about her meeting him. She has a bunch of autographs, apparently her grandmother got to meet a lot of famous people at one time or another.” He smiled and took out his phone to show off the beautifully framed photo, with a white bit of material circling it. “She knew I was an Elvis fan so she got it specially framed along with…his scarf.”

“No way,” he gasped, looking at the picture. “Her grandmother had a scarf from him too?”

“Yeah!” He smiled at it. “He signed that too. Not gonna lie, I fanboyed a little. There’s a picture of her grandmother with him and the scarf on the back. Apparently she saved him from a crazed wesen fan and he was all too happy to give her the mementos.”

“Man, lucky…”

Nick leaned in whispered. “Act surprised, but she found ones for all of us. You’re getting a very famous sports hero for your birthday.”

“Oh, that narrows it down,” he said with a smile.

Nick smiled back and looked up when Sloane walked over. She smiled back, and he was glad Hank put him at ease before they ended up arguing about Renard again. “Hey. Was just showing off your gift to me.”

She smiled more. “I guess I don’t have to worry if you actually liked it then.”

“Love it…” Hank eyed him and Nick cleared his throat. “So, um, we have a case.”

“Right, Renard said so. Ready to go?”

He nodded, trying to push any awkward thoughts out of his head. “Wu says it’s a weird one.”

“When isn’t it with us?” she sighed.

\----------------------

Weird was a bit of an understatement.

Aimee Diaz had called to report the body of an old woman in her apartment, and the subsequent disappearance of her 24-year-old roommate Summer Blake. The woman found dead was at least into her 80s, with long white hair and deep-set wrinkles and spots of aging. But she was wearing the same clothes and accessories Summer had been wearing last time Aimee saw her. It was a bit dressier and Aimee said that she’d gone to a photoshoot with a photographer. She’d been scouted at the mall and the photographer took her picture yesterday afternoon. She showed them copies of the photos Summer had been sent on her tablet. They were of a beautiful, young woman with long brown hair in the same style as the old woman on the floor. Aimee had gone to spend the night with her boyfriend after that and found the woman on the floor when she came home.

Then Wu came back after fingerprinting the body, confirming it was Summer Blake from her prints from a DUI a year ago.

Somehow she had aged over 60 years in one night. The ME, when they visited him, said it was like an advanced case of Progeria, a disorder where people age much more rapidly. But that syndrome typically started to affect young children around age 2 and he’d never heard of a case striking down someone in their 20s after years of living normally. The oldest person he knew of who lived with the condition only lived to be 29.

“You sure it wasn't a Spinnetod?” Rosalee asked. They’d come by the loft that evening to let them in on the case and go over some of the books. They put the books in the extra bedroom for now, though Sloane wanted a more secure area for them. “Maybe it couldn't find a victim. They have to consume their victims' insides in order to stay young.”

“I don't think so. Even when a Spinnetod can't find a victim, it doesn't age this fast,” Sloane said. The elevator came up as she spoke and she looked up to see Nick and Monroe walk in with several pizza boxes.

“Pizza's here,” he called. “Any luck?”

“Not yet,” Hank said.

Monroe held up a large stack of paper napkins. “Napkins. Just please try to avoid the greasy fingers on the pages.”

Sloane glanced at Nick and rolled her eyes but he smiled and set the boxes down on the folding table they’d brought in.

“Now here's something,” Rosalee said, catching their attention. “Looks like a journal from an Egyptian Grimm.”

“What have you got?” Nick asked. Sloane moved in next to her to look as well.

“Well, I do see sketches of old people,” Sloane agreed, looking at the page. “And a…Huh…” She picked it up and turned it towards Nick and Hank. It showed a rather terrifying humanoid creature, with finger like frills coming from its mouth that were webbed and spread in what was definitely a threatening manner. “It looks like that thing, from that movie we watched last year…the one where they’re on the spaceship and this thing goes on the guys face. And then Sigourney Weaver was really cool and really sexy.”

“ _Alien_ ,” they both said together.

“That’s the one!”

“I was thinking _Predator,_ but yeah, it does look like he has a face hugger facing towards us,” Nick nodded.

“ _Predator_?”

“You’ll like it, we’ll watch it later,” Hank said. “What does the passage say though?”

“It's in Arabic,” Rosalee said.

“Any translation?” Nick asked hopefully.

“Uh, …yeah. Actually yes,” she said finding the extra page stuck into the book. “It's called a Musasat Alsh-Shabab.”

“Sounds like something you want to eat,” Monroe said.

“"I tracked the Musasat Alsh-Shabab through the streets of Cairo for seven straight nights, always too late to catch it. But never too late to discover the victims it left behind. All of them aged beyond their years. One of them, a young man who was, I think, no more than 16 years old because I had seen him before, had been transformed into a wrinkled, old man within a few hours. I knew I had to catch it in the act to understand how it was able to steal the youth of its victims. On the eighth night, I tracked the Musasat Alsh-Shabab to a small back alley. I watched with utter fascination as it woged, And it's..." what?”

“"Mandibles,”” Monroe supplied, squinting at the word.

“Mandibles? Is that what those are called?” Sloane asked.

“Apparently. “It’s mandibles pierced a woman's face as she lay limp in its arms. It appeared to suck something from its victim as the cheeks grew ever larger. When it finished with the young woman, it disgorged the Yanbue into a wineskin,”” she finished, frowning.

“The what?” Hank asked.

“Not sure…it must be something it can extract from its victims,” Rosalee shrugged.

“Does it eat it?”

“Or is it like the spinnetod and needs it to like live?” Sloane theorized.

“Uh, let’s see…okay, there’s more. “"And when it melts into the skin, age disappears, but it becomes highly addictive, shattering lives, and making monsters of those who use it until their death when overindulged.."

“Oh…”

“Well, there's a happy ending,” Monroe said dryly as he took a bite of pizza.

Rosalee held up a finger. “Not done.”

“Sorry.”

“"Knowing how difficult it would be to kill, I lay in wait for him in his room. After I cut off its head, I discovered a small fortune hidden in the walls, but I realized, only too late, that he was only the supplier of the Yanbue. But now that he was dead, I would never know who he was selling it to."”

“Rich assholes.” They looked at Sloane and she shrugged. “Just saying, that’s usually who buys this stuff. Either to use or to sell to others.”

They nodded, knowing she was right. “At least we know we're dealing with a big, ugly bug-like dude,” Hank said.

“Well the Grimm in the book said he was following the Musasat Alsh-Shabab for eight nights. That means there were a lot of victims,” Nick said.

“Then there's probably a lot more victims than the one we know about,” Hank sighed.

Sloane sighed and then felt her phone go off, answering it. “Larson.”

“Sloane, it’s Victoria. I got word that Mr. Burkhardt’s trunk is on its way and may even be early.”

“Oh! That’s good, thanks for letting us know…Say, do you know anything about a Musasat-Alsh-Shabab?”

It was quiet a moment before Victoria spoke again, sounding grave. “There’s one of those here in Portland?”

“We’re pretty sure, yeah…We had a victim reported yesterday that aged like 60 or 70 years in one day.”

“I see. I know a little, but enough to warn you to be careful. When woged, their exoskeleton is incredibly hard, but there are places it’s weak. The best place to strike is going to be in the neck—there area between the carapace and the skin underneath is more prominent there and you can get a strike in on their veins easily. Big enough blade and you can take the head off.”

“I…wow, that’s good to know, thanks,” Sloane said.

“I had to fight one once,” she sighed. “It was posing as a nurse and putting the bodies in the morgue. Nearly got me a couple of times and I broke my first scalpel trying to stab it before I figured the red bits were fleshier,” she said, chuckling. “If you need help, let me know.”

“We will, thank you,” Sloane nodded. She hanged up and went over, making a note on the page. “Victoria fought one of these before, says the redder bits between its exoskeleton are the weak points.”

“…Maybe we should bring her in then. She might know how to handle this,” Nick said. Sloane quirked a brow but didn’t argue.

\------------------

Another victim was found the next day.

Nick had been looking up cases of “sudden aging” around Portland and found at least a half-a-dozen reported over the last six years. Wu came in then and stated that they had an old man who looked at least 90 drove off the road—but his license said he was 19. Looking the scene over, the old man that was once Brian Grady was slumped over the wheel after driving off the tree. He braked hard enough in his last moments he likely would’ve survived, but the sudden addition of 70 years added so much stress that his body couldn’t keep up. As they were looking through his car, Nick found a card for _Malcolm Caulfield: Studio Photographer_. It was a little bent, but still looked relatively new. They remembered that Summer’s roommate mentioned that she went to see a photographer. Neither Brian nor Summer were professional models but Aimee had said Summer was “scouted” by him. It would be a good way to get young people to come to a secondary location they realized so they decided to go questions this Malcolm in person.

They went to the address specified on the card and website, which was a nice-looking office building. According to the card he’d be on the top floor, which they could tell was more of a free-formed sort of space where he could have a large open area for setting up photos. “Looks legit…” Nick said.

“What if he's Musasat Alsh-Shabab?” Hank asked.

“Well, if he is, he knows nobody can tie him to what happened to the victims,” Nick sighed.

“He’s also probably likely prepared somehow and not going to woge in front of us unless we make him. So confirming it is going to be a challenge…” Sloane added.

“All right, well how do you want to handle this?” Hank asked.

“First we have to figure out if he's working alone or with somebody else,” Nick said.

“You leaving the Grimm in the car?”

“For now,” Nick said, Sloane nodding when he looked to her.

They headed in and up to the top floor, hitting the buzzer outside the door. The intercom buzzed back and a voice came through. “Come in. I'll be right there!” They walked in, looking around. The room was spacious, set up with a couple of areas for photographs using both simple white backdrops, and another with a green screen. Several gray boards were set up with canvas prints of beautiful people hanged up, watching them. Sloane eyed them, wondering if any of them were now old and gray and six feet under. They glanced to the side and saw a small glass encased office where a man was talking on the phone. He nodded to them and hanged up before coming out. “Can I help you?”

“Malcolm Caulfield?” Hank asked.

“Yes?’

“Detective Burkhardt. This is Detective Griffin and Detective Larson,” Nick said, all of them flashing their badges.

“What'd I do?” he asked with a joking smile, raising his hands in mock surrender. “'Cause I don't remember doing anything bad.” He had a slight Australian accent and Sloane wondered when he emigrated over.

“You shoot these photos?” Hank asked, showing a picture of Summer he got from her tablet in black and white with an artsy pose.

“Ah, Summer Blake. Yeah, I did. She's a beautiful girl…Well, is she in some kind of trouble?” he asked, looking confused.

“What about Brian Grady? You take pictures of him?”

“Yeah, last night…What's going on?”

“They're both dead,” Nick said.

His eyes widened and the joking expression faded. “What? How? Did they know each other?”

“Not that we know of. Two different places, two different times,” Sloane said.

“Oh, my God…This is why you're here. Look, I just took pictures of them,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why?” Nick asked.

“Well they're both very attractive young people. It's what I do for a living. I discover talent.”

“I didn't know beauty qualified as talent,” Hank said a little blandly.

He chuckled. “Talent is in the eye of the beholder.” He swept past them gesturing at the canvased photos on the wall. “A lot of my clients have gone on to very successful careers. I mean, look at these faces! They're naturally beautiful. And in the right light, that is about as close to perfect as you're ever going to get. I mean, that is who we all want to be.” Hank frowned and Malcolm calmed himself. “How did they die?”

“Cause of death is still undetermined, but they died in similar manners,” Sloane said.

“Where did you meet them?” Nick asked.

“At Union Way Mall. I meet my clients in a lot of places. Malls, parks, streets. I'm always looking. You know, you never know when you're gonna meet that next Heidi Klum,” he said with a smile. It dimmed again though when they didn’t smile back. “Look, do you think I had something to do with this?”

“Just have to backtrack everywhere they've been,” Nick said.

Hank pulled out a card and handed it to him. “If you think of anything else, give us a call.”

“Right…Hey, just a moment,” he stepped in front of Sloane and they all paused. “You’re all a very good-looking bunch, if you’ll pardon me, but…you’ve got quite a look about you. Especially your hair, it’s a signature look…Have you ever thought of modeling?”

Nick frowned but Sloane arched her brow. “I’m not interested.”

“Oh, but you could be big. Desired by everyone, rich and famous…”

Sloane held up a hand and he wisely shut up at her look. “I’m a police detective. I’m not interested in having my face on your wall. And you’re not the first person to try that line, so I’m going to politely ask you to stop and get out of my way.”

Malcolm gave a nervous laugh and quickly side stepped. “Sorry…had to try.”

Sloane didn’t say anything and walked past him with her partners outside.

“Guys got some nerve,” Nick said.

“Why, because he thought I was pretty?” she asked dryly.

“I-that is not what I meant and you know it,” he said, and she smiled.

“I know. But he does seem pretty taken with “beauty”. All those pictures on his walls…”

“Like trophies,” Hank said. “After what happened a couple of years ago with Margo Bennet and that beauty potion, I’m not very keen on his whole “what everyone wants” spiel.”

“Yeah…Think we can tie any of them to the ones we found in the medical report?” Nic asked.

“Well, it's worth a look.”

“Let's run his phone records, see if he’s called our victims or anyone that could distribute a youth serum,” Sloane said.

“And put some surveillance on him,” Hank added.

When they got back to the station they pulled Caulfield’s phone records. Hank figured likely he’d have to call soon after Summer or Brian left his studio, so they narrowed down the times. The only outgoing calls he had then were to a photo supply store, a dry cleaner’s, and the last to a “Forbes Clinic”.

“What kind of clinic?” Nick asked.

Hank typed in the name and then quirked a brow when the slick, modern website loaded in. “Beauty treatment. And he's got his own commercial.”

“Play it,” Sloane nodded.

He pressed the video and a man in a white coat walked towards the camera as spoke, set in a sterile looking clinic that was mostly whites and grays and hints of aqua, with shelves of products tastefully displayed. He was tall, older, with yellow-blonde hair and bright blue eyes that gave him a very artificial feeling. He spoke with a wide smile but tried to sound soothing over the upbeat music. “It's time to make a change. Time to restore your true, youthful self.” He came to a large photograph on an easel of a woman with wrinkles and age spots that looked a bit overkill in their opinion. It didn’t look real either. “Do you ever wish you could turn back the clock, shed your old, tired skin, and restore your true, youthful self?” The detectives glanced at one another but kept watching. “Hi, I'm Dr. Eugene Forbes. And with my revolutionary new Fountain of Youth treatment, FOY Cream, you can literally...”

Hank paused it and looked at his partners. “FOY Cream? We talking Fountain of Youth?”

“We may have just found our buyer,” Nick said. “We're gonna need somebody to check him out.”

“…You know…I think I know who,” Sloane said.

\---------------------

Rosalee opened the door and smiled. “Hello, Dr. Hier.”

“Please, Victoria is fine, Ms. Calvert,” she said with a smile. She was wearing black jeans and a copper-colored blouse and Rosalee was struck how fashionable she always looked.

“Only if you call me Rosalee,” she said back.

Victoria smiled and looked around at the shop as she walked in. “My, your shop is lovely…This is how I wanted the library to look, but I had to make do with what I could get my hands on.”

“Well you did a great job,” Monroe said.

“This way, please,” Rosalee said, leading her to the side room.

Sloane looked up and smiled. “Thanks for meeting us here.”

“No, thank you. Being somewhere with windows is much nicer,” she said, sitting down. She smiled when she was offered tea and took a cup. “I take it this is about the Musasat Alsh-Shabab though? Do you not need more information?”

“My books had enough…we’re actually here to ask for your help.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to take it the wrong way though…” she added hesitantly.

“Take what the wrong way?” she asked, pausing in taking a sip of her tea.

Sloane sat next to her and turned her laptop towards her. “We think we found where the Yanbue is being sold.”

Victoria leaned in, reading over Dr. Forbes’ website, and frowned. “Ah…one of these “Doctors”,” she said snidely. “I have nothing against plastic surgery, but I know his type well at a glance. Glorified snake-oil salesman. Convinces his patients they need many unnecessary treatments.”

“You’re not wrong we think,” Hank agreed. “But we think his FOY cream might be the yanbue.”

“‘FOY’?”

“Fountain of youth,” Nick explained.

Victoria sat up straighter then glared at the Dr. Forbes picture. “This…melting Ken-doll is selling the yanbue as a facial cream?”

Sloane nearly snorted her tea at the comparison because damn that was spot on, but quickly covered it up. “We believe so, yes.”

“…Ah. And I am older than you all so I make the most sense to go in and check,” she said, nodding in realization.

“Not that you need it,” Monroe said quickly. “You look great!”

“It’s alright, I am aware of my own age,” she said with an amused smile. “I prefer to age gracefully, but I am more than happy to go in for an appointment to take him down.”

“We don’t think he’s the Musasat Alsh-Shabab though,” Nick said quickly. “We think it’s a photographer. That he scouts his victims to come take pictures for a modeling opportunity and then somehow gets them to let him suck the youth out of them.”

“We don’t know what Dr. Forbes is,” Hank added. “We were hoping to get a sample of the FOY cream and see if it has a human substance base. Then we can get a warrant and put the pressure on the good doctor.”

“Ah, I see…not a bad plan. You are watching this photographer so he doesn’t run?”

“Got our most trusted officers on it,” Sloane nodded.

“Good. Then I’ll make an appointment and go see this Dr. Forbes. If he’s human or wesen, I will be happy to bring him down for his hand in this.”

“We looked into making an appointment too but they’re full…” Hank sighed.

Victoria shrugged. “Not a problem then. It will be my first time getting to be the demanding patient,” she said with a malicious smile. “Do you want to do it today? If so, I think I should change.”

They were surprised how ready she was to do this but agreed. Victoria met them again on the street to the clinic an hour later and was now dressed in a teal designer dress, classy gold heals, a black and white designer coat over her shoulders, black clutch and a pair of large sunglasses. Her make-up was tasteful but more than she usually wore.

“Whoa…where’d this come from?” Hank asked.

Victoria smiled and tilted her sunglasses up. “This isn’t my first time being someone I’m not. I’ve learned to play many parts in my life and “Rich aging heiress wanting to recapture her youth” is fairly straightforward. If I’m going to make them squeeze me in, I have to sell it, yes?” she said, letting her accent get a little thicker.

“I’m seeing some of that Grimm training,” Sloane said with a wry smile.

Victoria winked and grinned. Nick smiled as well but held up a small microphone. “Got a place we can hide this?”

“Of course.” She took it and helped to fix it to the inside of her dress with the small battery pack hidden away. Once that was secure they tested it through Nick’s phone and she was ready. Taking a deep breath, she sauntered up to the clinic doors while the others waited in Nick’s car. Another woman coming out held the door for Victoria and she gave a tightlipped smile of thanks but kept moving. Going to the front counter, she took off her glasses again and smiled demurely. “Hello, I’m Maria Heister, I have an appointment at 5:00.”

The girl behind the counter smiled and typed into her computer. “Alright…um, I don’t have any appointment listed.”

“What? That can’t be right, my assistant booked it three weeks ago,” she said.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not listed…”

“This is unbelievable!” she said, raising her voice. “I had this appointment made specifically because I would be in the US, and to do it before I return to Germany, and you say that it is not there? I turned down a trip to Napa to fly in from L.A. because several of my associates here got this treatment and now I’ve done all that for nothing? I swear, this is the last straw, that assistant is fired!”

“Isn’t she laying it on a little thick?” Monroe whispered.

“Nah, sounds like some of the women from my retail days as a teen,” Hank muttered.

“P-please, calm down,” the receptionist was saying. “Are you sure you have the right clinic?”

“Of course! Patricia kept raving about your FOY cream and Dr. Forbes!” She breathed as if calming down. “I do not wish to make a scene, but I am going back to Germany in a matter of days and I’ve got a lot to do when I return. I have several galas and openings to attend and I wanted to _look my best._ I will not be able to return for a couple of months and I do not know if it will even be worth it.”

“I see. I’ll try my best to squeeze you in, but you’ll still have to wait.”

She sighed again but finally nodded. “Yes, fine, that is acceptable.”

“And I just have to check that you know this is usually just an initial consultation, the process itself is $5,000.”

“5,000?!” Monroe and Rosalee hissed in unison. The others shushed them.

“If this gives me the results I’ve heard claimed, I’ll spend that and more for regular touch ups,” Victoria said haughtily.

“Well, you’ll need to fill this out then,” she said, offering her a clip board. She sighed but took it and clicked her heels a little louder as she walked to a chair and sat down. An older woman nearby looked at her and then scooted a little closer.

“Hi…”

Victoria looked up from filling out her fake information and smiled politely. “Hello.”

“I overheard…you really came from Germany for this treatment?”

“Oh, not just for this, no. I was here for a meeting regarding bringing our chain of beauty stores over to the US. If I’m going to have to deal with American Journalists, I think I should look as good as possible. A friend who lives here recommended it to me.”

“Oh? Who?”

“If I say her name she will kill me before I get a chance to enjoy it,” she said quietly.

“Ha! Well, it’s hard not to notice the difference.”

“You’ve done it before?”

“Oh, no, this is my first time. But all my friends have had it done and they look amazing! And they’re older than me! I know it’s expensive but I figured it’s worth it.”

“Ms. Morgans? The doctor will see you now.”

She smiled again and waved. “Wish me luck!”

Victoria wave and sighed, speaking quietly. “Might be a small wait…”

They settled in, Monroe and Rosalee grabbing coffee for them while they listened in. Two hours later, and a text that Caulfield was on the move, the sun had set and the others had come and gone. Then they heard the woman’s voice come back. But Victoria was more surprised by her appearance—she’d been maybe in her sixties when she left and now looked half her age in her face. Her hands were still a bit of a giveaway with wrinkles and spots but she kept smiling happily.

“What do you think?”

“You look amazing,” Victoria said, honestly shocked.

“I do, don't I? Oh, I'm so glad I came. My husband's gonna think he's having an affair.” She chuckled and winked. “And I might have one myself.”

Victoria watched her go and could do little more than shake her head and feel sorry for the both of them.

“Ms. Heister? Dr. Forbes will see you now.” She stood, trying for an air of “about damn time” in her posture. “May I take your coat?”

“Please,” she nodded, handing it off.

“Thank you. This way.” She passed the coat to her colleague and led Victoria down the hall to one of the treatment rooms. It felt more spa-like than a doctor’s office, which she wasn’t sure made her comfortable. After decades in hospitals preferred the sterile white to the soothing ocean tones that felt a little too placating. The nurse opened the door at the end of the hall and Victoria stepped in. The man from the commercial was at the sink with his back to them, obsessively washing his hands. “Doctor, this is the last patient. Do you need me to stay?”

“No, I'll lock up,” he said brusquely, not turning around.

Victoria didn’t miss the flash of worry on the nurse’s face but she nodded. “Okay…” She stepped out the door and closed it behind her.

“Please have a seat. I will be with you in just a second.” Victoria set her clutch bag on a table and sat in the plus exam chair next to it. She nearly broke character when the man turned around—his once decently handsome if a little plastic looking face was now pulled taught like a cat pushing its head through hole in a screen. One side of his mouth seemed permanently turned up—or was it the other side was permanently drooping even when he spoke? His nose, nasal bridge and brow line were swollen, sinking his eyes back into their sockets so they were shadowed. It made him look almost like a skull. And his skin looked like a latex Halloween mask. “Hi. I'm Dr. Forbes,” he said as if nothing were wrong.

“Maria Heister…” she said, managing to keep her composure.

“Nice to meet you, Maria. Let's see what we have here.” She watched him as he pulled around the magnifying glass on a mechanical arm and turned on the ring light around it. “I hear you came from Germany?”

“Yes. My friends recommended your treatment. I run a line of beauty stores that might be coming here. If this works I’d be interested in a possible partnership…”

“Really?”

“Yes. Though we’d have to work to mass produce your cream.”

“Oh, I’m not sure about that. It’s a secret recipe. But I can see why you want to use it.”

“Are you always this charming to your clients?” she asked breezily.

“Ah, don’t take it that way. But surely you’ve seen these imperfections?” He reached up and she flinched when he touched her face. “Wrinkles, bumps, lumps, spots—all of those will just melt away!”

“Lumps and bumps,” she said, frowning. She felt his hands moving across her face and he actually pinched the skin of her neck which made her jump and smack his hand.

“This will tighten up as well, like when you were young! You’ll be just like you were twenty-no, thirty years ago!”

“I’m not terribly interested in going back that far—”

“But why not? You know what? We shouldn't wait. We should start right away!”

“I thought this was just a consultation,” she said, bracing herself as he picked up a jar and opened it. “Put that down.”

“We cannot let her put that stuff on her face,” Sloane said, all of them quickly scrambling out of the car. He kept his phone open, listening.

“Oh, this will take years off your face!”

“I think I need to really think about this…”

They paused at the street as convertible pulled up and a familiar face stepped out.

“And there's our photographer…” Hank said.

“Let him go in and we’ll follow,” Nick said.

They nodded, watching him go inside while the conversation was still going.

“Don't you want to be younger and more beautiful?” Dr. Forbes asked, wringing the cream between his hands.

“You know, I think perhaps I am happy as I am,” she said, standing up and backing away.

“Seriously?” He laughed, looking at his cream covered hands. “Okay, fine. I'm certainly not going to waste this. Hey, let me show you what it does.” He smeared it across his face and then pulled another lamp over with a UV light inside. He turned it on and she could hear the cream sizzling on his skin like bacon in a pan.

“What…is wrong with you?” she said, dropping her character.

“Wrong? Nothing is wrong!” He pushed the lamp away and moved towards her. “You have to see. Now go ahead, guess how old I am.” He reached for her but she ducked away. He kept moving towards her, undeterred. He was trying to smile, his lips tearing a little and, and sounded almost desperate. “How old do I look?”

The door opened and another man stepped in. She recognized him from the photos Nick and Sloane showed her as the photographer, Malcolm Caulfield. He froze a moment then looked at Dr. Forbes with barely contained anger and disgust. “What the hell are you doing?”

Dr. Forbes spun around and smiled as if seeing his best friend. “Oh, good, you're here. Did you bring more? I'm all out.”

“I told you not to use that stuff!”

“I need more!”

“Who is she?” He said, gesturing to Victoria.

“Did you bring it?” Dr. Forbes practically screamed.

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, pulling a jar out of his bag.

“Give it to me.”

“What is she doing here?” he said again, gesturing to Victoria.

“I’m here to find the Musasat Alsh-Shabab,” Victoria said, kicking off her heels.

Caulfield’s eyes widened and he woged. “ _Grimm!_ ” He threw the jar at her but she dodged, letting it smash to the ground.

“No! No! My cream!” Dr. Forbes cried, rushing over. He started trying to scoop what he could out of the broken bits of glass, painting his face in it again.

Victoria meanwhile spun around the chair, grabbing the UV lamp as she did and wrenching it off its anchor on the table. She then swung it back around, smashing it into Caulfield’s head. It broke with the impact and he moved with it, but the hard carapace shell kept him from really getting hurt. He roared and grabbed her up off her feet, throwing her across the room. Dr. Forbes was moving on his hands and knees, muttering about a new jar.

“Hey!”

He looked up when Nick and the others entered the room. “More Grimms,” he hissed.

Rosalee rushed over to Victoria, helping her to sit up as she grunted. “Ah, I am out of practice…” she sighed.

“They got it from here,” she said. As she did, Caulfield charged and body slammed Nick into the wall. Monroe woged, snarling and rushing to get Caulfield away from him, only for his teeth to clack against the black, armor-like shell on his arm. Caulfield grabbed his shoulders and spread his mandibles wide, moving as if to fit them over Monroe’s face. Monroe pushed at him and Rosalee gasped but stayed when Victoria grabbed her. She’d seen Hank moving towards them and he pulled Caulfield off of Monroe. Only to then be thrown towards the shelves of products nearby with a shout.

“They are also very strong. I forgot about that,” Victoria said. “Aim for the red areas!” she shouted louder.

Caulfield turned, hissing and flicking his mandibles in anger as he moved towards her and Rosalee. Sloane slipped in under and brought her knife up to slash at the red area near his elbow. He screamed, moving away and holding his arm. She flipped the knife around and spun into him, aiming for an area near his chest. But he kicked out and sent her skidding back. Nick jumped up in front of her with his gun raised and ready this time.

“Don't move!”

He froze, growling in a way that sounded like a hissing, chittering insect. Then suddenly a white arm plunged a scalpel into the red area where his sternocleidomastoid muscle was on his neck—right into the carotid artery Victoria knew. It was the same place she’d killed the Musasat Alsh-Shabab many years ago. They watched as Caulfield unwoged and then collapsed, gasping and weakly trying to reach the scalpel before dying.

Dr. Forbes was standing over him, panting in rage, not caring at the blood staining his hand and once pristine white coat. “What am I gonna do now? It's broken! And it's your fault!” He looked up at Victoria as she walked over with Rosalee to the others and smiled through the thick coat of cream on his face. “You never answered my question.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“How old do I look?” As he spoke the cream absorbed into his skin and began to tighten it—and tighten it more. His skin was shrink wrapping itself to his bones but he was grinning and laughing giddily. “I'm 69 years young!” He laughed as it kept tightening until his eyes rolled back and he collapsed, dying with the manic grin on his face before rigor mortis even set in.

\-------------------

“You sure you’re okay?” Sloane asked, walking Victoria to her car. They’d staged the scene a little to look like basically what happened: Dr. Forbes killing Malcolm Caulfield, who had providing black market serums to the doctor derived from humans, and then dying due to side-effects from that serum. They worked to erase any trace Victoria, Rosalee or Monroe had been there so that awkward questions wouldn’t be asked.

“I’m fine. But I think I have been avoiding training for too long,” she sighed. “My reflexes were too slow.”

“Did you keep up with it when you were a doctor?”

“On and off. But I’ve neglected it the last few years. I have lump and bumps it would seem.”

“That doctor was full of it,” Sloane said.

“He was full of something, yes,” she said. “I despise doctors like that.”

“Plastic surgeons?”

“No, parasitic surgeons who prey on people’s insecurities. I do not mind plastic surgery. I’ve had some myself.”

“You have?”

“A few things. Facial reconstruction and the like, after a very…difficult fight.”

“Oh…wow, I had no idea…”

“I had a very good doctor,” she smiled. She pulled her keys out of her coat and clicked and Sloane was surprised to see she drove a very nice Range Rover light up when she clicked the fob. Those were not cheap she knew even if they did look sporty. “The trunk should be arriving at the library soon.”

“Great…”

“…you do not sound entirely enthused,” she noted.

“No, I…I mean, Nick’s probably more excited than me but I’m looking forward to it.”

“…But you had something else in mind?”

She sighed and shrugged. “I just want to go on a proper date…for once in my life…” she added under her breath.

“Date? With Nick?”

“Yeah. But it keeps getting put on hold…”

“…Here.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper, writing something down. “I have a reservation at the lovely French restaurant downtown. I will make a call and you can have it; it is Sunday night at seven.”

“What? No, I can’t take that,” Sloane said, shaking her head in surprise.

“You can and you will. It’s New Year’s Eve and nothing else will have any open reservations. I was going to eat alone, it is better you get to have a nice night together. All expenses paid.”

“What? But—”

“The reservation was a gift from an old colleague, and he is footing the bill. But I do not like to dine alone. You will be doing me a great favor taking it off my hands. In exchange…let’s have lunch together sometime, something simple, yes?”

“…I…okay, sure.”

“Great! Then I will let you know when the trunk comes and in the meantime, I hope you have a lovely evening.” She smiled and climbed into the car and Sloane shook her head slightly in confusion before walking back to the others. Nick was helping coordinate some of the officers that just arrived and looked up when she walked over.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah…” She looked at him and then smiled in determination. “We’re going on a date this Sunday.”

Nick’s eyebrows rose. “Sunday? New Year’s Eve?”

“Yep. A fancy-ass date on New Year’s Eve.”

Nick’s lips twitched and he tried to resist laughing. “Well…How can I say no to a fancy-ass date?”

She blushed and smacked his arm before they walked back to the crime scene to finish up, Nick smiling all the while.

\-------------------

“You know, when you said fancy, I didn’t know I’d have to put on a tie,” Nick said. He finished tying the blue and green tie, smoothing it down.

“Just be glad I looked that place up before we went or we’d probably have to deal with snooty waiters judging you for not wearing one.”

He chuckled, agreeing that was likely. “It was nice of Victoria to give us a comped reservation though.”

“Yeah…it’s not too much?”

“No? I mean, I figured we’d go somewhere fancy at some point…was planning on it for your birthday for sure. But I don’t want to wait another three months to before we go on a date…”

“No, yeah, me neither. Just been a while since I dressed up. Hard to believe a couple of months ago I turned into a giant fur-covered monster around now…” She stepped out of the room and Nick froze. She was wearing a cocktail dress that hugged her curves beautifully but still with a classy flair. The top was most portion was a mauve-purple and looked like several dozen diamond shapes overlayed on top of one another with three diamond cut outs across her neckline that gave just a hint of skin, with the biggest in the middle. The color faded to black as it went down her body and she had a pair of sheer black hose over her legs to the black heels on her feet. Her dark hair was pulled back into a very small bun but she’d actually left that streak of white lose. Her make-up was simple but the darker lip drew his eye. She looked up and smiled a little nervously. “How’s it look?”

“…Ah…well…wow? Yes, definitely wow,” he nodded, walking over, tucking her white lock back. “You always look good, but you look…wow.”

Sloane snorted and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Same to you, handsome.”

He smiled back took her black coat from the peg nearby and held it up. She shrugged it on with his help and then he put on his own before they headed down to the car. Checking in at the restaurant was easy enough and they were led to a secluded table that was nice and private. Wine was poured and they took a look at the menu.

“Somehow I’m glad this is someone else’s treat because they don’t even list the prices…” Nick said.

“No kidding. Does kind of feel like they don’t want you to know till it’s too late,” she said with a wry smile.

“Good wine though.” He held up his glass and she smiled and held up hers. “To finally having our first date…hopefully the first of many more.”

Sloane blushed but smiled. “Cheese with the wine I see…but I hope that too.”

Nick grinned. He ended up ordering a steak with grilled asparagus and some fancy mashed potatoes, and Sloane opted for cock au vin. They’d both been worried if things would be awkward, finally dating, but they slipped into conversation easily. Childhood memories, training, past cases and more all made their way around the table between bites of rich, delicious food. Everything was going perfectly.

Well, almost.

“…So there was my principal, sitting across from Aunt Marie, cowed and looking like he was the one who was there for a lecture!”

“Good, he deserved it,” Sloane smiled.

“Well, I mean, I did punch a guy…”

“For snapping a girl’s bra so hard it broke! He deserved it. If it was me it’d have been much worse.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Nick said with a wry smile and a last bite of his chocolate crepe. “Did you ever get called to the principal’s office?”

“Ah, yeah…Mainly when wesen kids realized what I was and tried to kill me or run from me. And one time I beat up the popular girls.”

“Really? Why?”

“They’d been trying to bully me for months and when they tried to confront me in the locker room…well, I was a very angry fourteen-year-old.”

“…You know, I can see that,” he said mock seriously. Sloane smiled as she finished her strawberry crepe but paused chewing when she glanced to her side and frowned. Nick noticed and got a bit of worry in his stomach. “Sloane?”

“…I swear there’s a guy that keeps looking at our table. Even though he has his own date.”

Nick looked where he was looking and almost missed a man quickly turning around. He didn’t see his face but he had a feeling Sloane was right. “…No more old boyfriends, right?”

“Not unless he’s yours, no,” she said with a wry smile.

Nick blushed but smiled back. Finishing his food, he sighed. “Well…ready to head out?”

“I think we both might be a little buzzed from the wine…want to take a walk?”

“That sounds nice. Then we can get home before midnight,” he nodded. They stood and headed for the front. Sloane glanced towards the table of the man she thought was watching them and was surprised to see it was empty. But she shrugged and followed Nick back to the coat check. “Hey, um, we’re here on Dr. Hier’s reservation, do we need to do anything?”

“No, sir, it’s already been taken care of,” the Maitre D said with a smile. He picked up Sloane’s coat and held it up for her so she could put it on and then did the same for Nick.

They headed out the door but Nick paused. “You know, I’m not sure that included the tip…I should at least leave that…”

Sloane smiled and pulled out a $20. “Add that to it from me.”

“I can get it…”

“It’s from me,” she said again. “That was probably worth a $40 tip at least.”

Nick smiled and took it. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and watched him go back up the steps. Sighing, she pulled her coat a little tighter and smiled as she looked up at the stars.

“Excuse me, miss…?”

Sloane looked up and tried not to tense too hard when she saw the grey suit. That was the man that kept looking at them she was sure. He had dark hair, a robust roman nose and square jawline. “Yes…?”

“I just want to say you are…the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Sloane arched her brow. “Um…thank you?”

“No, really…” He stepped closer and Sloane gripped her purse tighter. She was ready to shove it down his throat if he tried anything. “You are beautiful. I forgot all about my date when I saw you.”

“That’s…sad. I hope you apologized to her,” Sloane said.

He twitched but leaned in more. “She’ll be fine, I already put her in a cab for home.”

“Wow…what a gentleman,” she said dryly.

He looked a little frustrated but then smiled again. “Miss, I am trying to tell you something important. That I think you should ditch the man in the suit and come have some real fun. With me. I need a new New Year’s Eve kiss after all.”

She glared and was about to tell him that was his problem when she took a deep breath and frowned a cloying, sweet scent that she smelled. Then she narrowed her gaze at him more in consideration than straight anger. “…Ziegvolk?”

He froze. “I…What?”

“You’re a Ziegvolk and your trying to use that pheromone shit on me,” she said, crossing her arms.

He woged then, his face growing goat-like with more fur around the edges down to a small beard on his chin, and two horns curving back from the crown of his head. His eyes, which were now bright yellow and had the side-ways pupil a goat did, widened. “You’re a Grimm too?!”

She frowned, not even concerned really and more confused. “Too?”

“Sloane?” She looked up as Nick exited and stepped back down to her. He was watching the Ziegvolk and then glared. “What the hell?” He woged back and Nick’s eyes widened. “Billy Capra?!” The man turned and began running—with a noticeable limp— and Nick rushed down to stand Next to Sloane. “That son of a bitch—he’s supposed to still be in prison!”

“Prison? Wait…is he the one from that case you told me about? The bed and breakfast where he kept women in his basement?”

“Yeah!”

“…” She stepped down, taking her phone and wallet out before spinning her handbag fast and letting it fly. Nick watched and his jaw dropped as it went right to Capra’s legs and he yelled as he fell. “I’m the one in heels, go while I call for back up.”

Nick didn’t need any further prodding and quickly ran, sliding just slightly on the snowy ground before grabbing him up. “Y-you can’t do this! I’m out on parole!”

“Yeah, no. I never got informed you were even up for parole because I made it well known I want to testify if you were,” Nick said. He bucked and tried to head butt him like the goat he was but Nick managed to secure him with the strap of Sloane’s purse and sat him down. Sloane was walking up while talking to dispatch and in a matter of minutes blue and red lights lit up the street. Nick had remembered to put his badge in his pocket just in case and they cuffed Capra and handed the purse back to Sloane.

“Thank you, Detectives. We didn’t know he was missing till two days ago—one of the guards actually helped him escape,” he said, shaking his head in disgust. Capra glared as they pushed him into the squad car and closed it up. “I’m surprised you knew to look out for him.”

Nick smiled deciding not to let on that he had absolutely no idea. “Just right place right time…” He sighed as he watched them take him away. He turned to Sloane, who was frowning at the broken strap of her purse. “Sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s just a purse.”

“No, I mean…not a great ending to our date.”

“No…but it’s very us,” she said, smiling wryly. Nick smiled back, relieved. “I guess I owe Dierdre something too…”

“Dierdre?” Nick asked, confused now.

“Yeah. She made sure I would be immune to Ziegevolk pheromones from a young age. I smelled them and it just kind of gave me a headache because to me it smells really sweet. Like that candle store at the mall.”

“…Well, guess I owe her a bit too,” Nick sighed. “It does make me wish I’d punched him at least once…I don’t’ know what he was planning, don’t want to know, but he definitely targeted you because you’re my girlfriend.” Sloane blinked and looked at him in surprise since that was the first time he’d said that. Nick didn’t even seem to notice though, sighing at the dusting of snow in the air. “But I’m definitely sober now. Still want to go for that walk?”

She smiled and reached up to tug him down using his tie and kiss him. Nick was surprised but kissed back. Pulling away just slightly, she looked into his eyes and with that darker eyeshadow he was struck by how green they were. It was mesmerizing. She felt the same, with how blue his looked up close. “Not really…How about we go ring in the new year at home?”

Nick smiled and kissed her again, swaying a little bit under the streetlight. It reminded him of the spotlight they’d danced under on the case where they played at being ballroom dancers, where she’d taught him and he’d learned how much she loved to dance. He pulled back a little and she laughed as he started straight up dancing with her, slow and careful since it was still a little icy out. His anger at Capra was completely forgotten when he saw her smile as he carefully turned with her towards the parking lot. He remembered the moves fairly well and hummed a song under his breath— _Love Me Tender._ It was the first song that came to mind and it felt right. Sloane recognized it and blushed but smiled and leaned her head against him as the swayed slowly. “…I love you,” he said.

She looked up and smiled, hugging him. “I love you too…” He smiled and leaned down to kiss her before opening the car door for her when a chilly wind swept through them. They headed home and warmth and forgot about the new year getting lost in each other, till fireworks started going off and Sloane laughed saying she thought it was just her. Nick took it as a compliment.

\-------------------

“Billy Capra is out?” Hank asked. It was Monday, New Year’s Day, and they were catching up at Hank’s place while Sloane went to visit Rosalee. They’d invited Wu, but he’d confessed he wasn’t feeling very good and needed to stay in. He complained it wasn’t fair considering he hadn’t even had a drink last night but they were skeptical.

“That skeezy Ziegevolk? I mean, all Ziegevolk are kind of skeezy. Not to generalize but hey…” Monroe said.

“He was out, but he is now back in and faces escape charges on top of his previous charges. We might see about making that neutralizing potion and getting it him, just so this doesn’t happen again.”

“Good thinking, though we gotta get sweat from him or another ziegevolk to do it…”

Hank hummed, remembering that whole debacle with Barry Kellog, the ziegevolk lawyer. Who was indeed skeezy, trying to get his client off a murder charge using his charming pheromones to sway the jury and witnesses. He looked at Nick expectantly. “But you two did have a good night otherwise, right?”

Nick blushed a little but smiled. “Yeah. Really good… And to be honest, it was kind of hot seeing her use her purse like a bolo to catch him.”

Monroe and Hank shared knowing smiles, figuring it was probably a very good night indeed. They didn’t get a chance to ask any more questions though when Nick noticed something on the news. “Oh, it’s the Captain…”

Nick turned and saw that Renard was having a small press conference in the otherwise empty precinct. He picked up Hank’s remote and turned it up, though he already figured what he was saying.

“….Andrew believed that Portland deserved a mayor that was willing to fight for its people. Now, I've been asked to take Andrew's place in the race. And after long consideration, though I know I can never truly replace him, I've realized that the only way to support Andrew's vision of the city is to take his place. And, so, today, I'm formally announcing my candidacy for Mayor of Portland.”

The small audience gathered clapped and cheered and Nick frowned a little. “…I’m still not sure about this.”

“Me neither…but hopefully he’ll be able to give us an edge over Black Claw,” Hank said.

Nick hummed and finished his beer before getting a glass of water. They talked a bit more before his phone buzzed and he picked it up. “Burkhardt.”

“Nick, it’s Victoria. I have good news; they were able to deliver the trunk early. It’s here now.”

“Really? Great! I can come pick it up?”

“I can stick around for a while if you want to, yes. Just come to the back of the library building.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you soon.” Nick clicked off and stood. “I gotta go, my dad’s trunk came in.”

“Great, need some help?” Monroe asked.

Nick was almost going to say sure, but hesitated. “…No, that’s…okay. We can handle it.”

“Okay…” Nick waved as he headed out and Monroe looked at Hank. “You think he’s okay?”

“I…think he might want to handle this without us. It might be a bit emotional for him…”

“Oh…right, yeah, I guess it might,” He said, wincing “I don’t think he even told Kelly about the trunk…”

“Yeah…”

Nick meanwhile got to the library pretty quickly. Victoria was waiting for him, and next to her was a large black steamer trunk. It was about three and a half feet wide by about two feet high and two feet deep and covered in stickers. Nick felt a sense of familiarity seeing it on the ground and slowed to a stop in front of her. Climbing out, he knelt down and his eyes immediately went to the tag in a metal holder at the top that had slightly faded but still legible handwriting on it. _Reed Burkhardt._ He then smiled at the stickers over it. Some were bands—Led Zepplin being the most obvious one. His dad had a hard side to him and was a fan of rock music. A few others were things like NPR stickers, some very dated bumper stickers (though luckily nothing profane) and a few more liberal political stickers. It definitely had a college vibe to it, though he’d been a professor and not a student.

“Looks like it came in fine.”

“Yeah…looks good.”

“It’s heavy, let me help you load it.”

Nick and Victoria got the trunk into his car and he sighed as he closed it up. “Thanks again…”

“No trouble. Let me know if you find anything interesting. Also, I hope you and Sloane had a nice time last night.”

“Yeah, it was great,” He smiled. “Thanks again for giving us the reservation. It must’ve been hard to come by.”

“As I said, it was a gift from a colleague, but I felt dining along on New Year’s would be a bit…sad. I managed to track down a more fun party to go to with a few friends I’ve made.”

“I’m glad your settling in alright,” Nick said.

She smiled. “Thank you. And say hello to Sloane for me, I hope she and I can have lunch soon.”

“Right. I’ll see you later.” Nick climbed back into the car and headed for the loft. He was surprised to find Sloane already there, down in the garage using her new book press.

She looked up when he drove in and smiled. “Hey, you’re home.”

“Yeah, so are you…”

“Rosalee got a call from her sister and she can talk for a while, so we cut things short,” Sloane said. “I was just seeing about fixing this guy’s spine.” She gestured to one of the older books they salvaged from her home in the press.

“Glad you like the book press then,” Nick smiled. “Um…Actually, I could use your help. My dad’s trunk came in.”

Sloane was surprised but nodded and took off her gloves. “Well, that’s good, right?”

“Yeah…yeah, it’s good.” Sloane frowned, a little worried. He seemed a bit nervous for some reason. She helped him unload the trunk, quirking a brow at some of the stickers, and get it over to the elevator. The brought it up and set it in front of the coffee table in the living room. He paused then and sighed. “I don’t have a key…”

“You have lockpicks though,” she pointed out. “As do I.”

Nick nodded, retrieving the lockpicks from the drawer he kept them in in the spare room. Sitting down, he went to work picking the trunk’s lock. It was fairly simple and clicked in a matter of minutes. “Okay…” Taking a deep breath, he pushed the trunk open and surveyed the contents. “…I forgot dad was not always the most organized.”

Sloane leaned in to see several books tossed in, loose papers, and various other things all inside. “You sure it wasn’t just jostled on the way?”

“No, this is pretty much what his desk at home looked like. He could still always find what he was looking for though…” Nick said, smiling a little. He started pulling things out and Sloane helped, looking at a few papers curiously. It was mostly notes for classes but she set them aside in case they might come in handy. Nick pulled out a picture of him, his dad and his mom at Niagara Falls when he was nine and smiled. Sloane leaned over and looked and smiled as well. “That’s your dad?”

“Yeah…”

“He was pretty handsome. And you were very cute.” Indeed, he reminded Sloane a lot of Nick: Well sculpted jawline with a slightly cleft chin, a handsome nose, and wide blue eyes with chocolate brown hair. Kelly was next to him, and she’d never seen her smile like that she was sure. Nick was pretty damn cute with his wide grin and ran poncho on the edge of the boat.

Nick blushed but smiled, setting the picture on the coffee table, looking wistful. They kept going, stopping to read occasionally to be sure that wasn’t the key document they were looking for. It was a lot of paper though. As they were going through, Sloane paused and picked up a wooden box that was about six inches long, four inches wide but only maybe two inches deep. It was hand carved she was fairly sure, with a picture on the front of a hunter, surprisingly, a wolf. The front also had a rolling dial lock with seven letters in place. “Uh…Nick? What’s this?”

Nick looked at it and frowned. “I…never saw that before. Let me see.” She handed it over to him and he frowned at the top, and then at the letters. “What is this…I mean, my dad always liked puzzles but this is different…” He pushed and moved the lock, looking at the letters curiously. “Seven letters…too short for our last name, to long for his name…” He shook the box gently and heard something moving around inside. As he did, Sloane noticed something stuck to the bottom.

“It’s got a note.”

Nick flipped it over and plucked the note off the back where the faded, yellowed tape had kept it. He opened it up and saw his father’s handwriting again for the first time in years—neat despite his messy habits.

“ _Nick, if your reading this, I left a message for you and your mother in this box. If you’re old enough, the key isn’t a cipher or a riddle—you just need to know the kind of wolf from your mother’s books.”_

Nick’s eyes widened when he read the last few words and Sloane was surprised as well. “He…he must mean the Grimm books, right…?”

“Yeah…so…” He looked at the letters again and spelled out the first word he thought of when he thought wolf.

_B-L-U-T-B-A-D_

The letters all were in there places and he heard a click inside. “…My dad…I know mom said he knew, but I didn’t know how much…”

“…You going to open it?” Sloane asked.

He sighed and nodded, opening it up slowly. And he stared inside with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…”

“Is that…VHS tapes?” Sloane asked, surprised as well.

Nick nodded, pulling out the top one with his name on it. The bottom one was labeled _Kelly_. “Yep…my dad died in 1994 after all…”

“…Do we have a VHS player?” she asked hesitantly.

“Nope. Sold mine in a garage sale a long, long time ago,” he sighed.

“…Okay, wait here.” Sloane stood up.

“Sloane?”

“I know someone that likes old stuff enough he probably has a VHS player.”

“…Monroe?”

“Monroe,” she nodded, slipping her boots on. “I’ll go get it; you keep going through that stuff.”

“You sure?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be back soon with the player one way or another.” Nick smiled and stood, catching her before she got to the elevator.

“Thanks.” He kissed her gently and she smiled and kissed him back before pulling the grate open and waving as she went down. Nick sighed as she left and walked over to sit and down in front of the chest again. He wasn’t sure exactly how to even start going through everything.

\--------------------

“A VHS player?” Monroe asked, making sure he heard right.

“Yeah. I figured you might have one?”

“Uhhh…yeah, I do,” he nodded, heading for his office. He opened the closet at the side. “I was a bit more resistant to the whole DVD switch for a while, but I ended up caving. I still have a few old tapes though so I kept this around.” He brought the player down, blowing a little dust off and coughing. He cursed when the remote started sliding, but Rosalee caught it and handed it to Sloane who put it in her jacket. “What do you need it for?”

“Nick’s dad included some secret tapes in the trunk so we need something to watch them on,” Sloane said, taking it from him with a smile.

“Secret tapes?” Monroe asked, curiosity piqued.

“Yep. In buzzle box and everything. You were actually the answer to it.”

“Me?”

“Well, not you specifically. It was the world “blutbad”.”

“Oh! So Nick’s dad definitely knew then…”

“Yeah…You know, Kelly tried to tell me once how she met her husband, but I was kind of young and dumb and didn’t want to listen…” she said, thinking back sadly.

“Oh, we’re all like that when we’re teens really,” Rosalee said comfortingly.

“Yeah. I mean, my parents love to tell the story about how they met. Dad running through the woods, seeing mom in the moonlight…half a rabbit in her mouth…”

“…Romantic,” Sloane said, grimacing.

“Hey, if he can fall in love with a woman covered in blood, it’s a match made in heaven.”

Rosalee chuckled. “You fell in love with me when I bricked a man ready to attack you.”

“Yeah, cause it was super cool! But too be fair, I thought you were beautiful the first moment I laid eyes on you. And you didn’t even need to kill a rabbit.”

“Aww…” she said, looking honestly touched.

“Okay, not that I wouldn’t love to stay and hear these weird wesen pickup lines, but I want to get back to Nick.”

Rosalee chuckled. “Alright. Oh! Monroe finally got a call from someone at the local museum.”

“Right! Dr. Ian Krieger. I did some work for him in the past and I told him we found some old cloth with writing on it. He said he could take a look at the cloth around the stick and the tapestry, see what he can see. He can use Iso…metric…uh, infrared…I didn’t understand it, but it sounded cool.”

“That’s great!” Sloane said, smiling. “I’ll let Nick know and we can get the cloth to you soon.”

“Sounds good.”

“I hope things go well with the videos…” Rosalee said. “If I found a video from my dad…I don’t know, I’d probably be a mess.” Monroe put a comforting arm around her because she sounded sad just thinking about it.

Sloane frowned worriedly but headed down to her car. Driving back, she carried the vhs player to the elevator and back up to where Nick was waiting. She stopped short when she saw dozens of piles of papers and books around him. “Whoa…”

Nick looked up and smiled wanly. “Hey…”

“Hey…I was only gone an hour…”

“Yeah, I’ve just been skimming and putting things into piles. Work notes, research notes, notes from colleagues, letters…” he said, pointing to different piles. “I’m not finding anything Grimm looking though.”

“Well, I got this,” she said, lifting the VHS player.

“Ah…good.”

“…You don’t sound enthused.”

Nick hesitated but shook his head. “No, I…I need to see this.” He stood and took the player from her, hooking it up to their TV. He then picked up the tape marked _Nick_ , looking at the swooping tail his father always put on his N’s with a clenched heart. Taking a deep breath, he put the tape into the player, while Sloane checked the batteries in the remote and changed them out just to be safe.

Sitting down, Nick accepted it from her as they sat down and he tried to get comfortable despite the anxious knot in his back. With another breath, he hit play.

“Is it on…?” he heard a familiar voice ask. The camera was out of focus as his father adjusted it before he stepped back. “…Yeah, good, it’s on…Okay…” He stepped back and sat down and Nick recognized the office back at their house in Rochester. Wooden bookshelves overflowing with books and papers, a record player in the corner, and his dad’s well-worn leather wingback chair that he was sitting in all made his heart clench. His father smiled at the camera, an unsure uncomfortable smile, with eyes that Nick still sometimes recognized in the mirror. “Hey, Nick…um, if you’re watching this, well…I’m probably dead.”

Nick paused the video and Sloane looked at him worriedly. He took a deep breath and then pressed play again.

“…Otherwise I’d have hoped I’d tell you about all of this in person, with your mother, when you’re old enough…Also, if you’re watching this, you probably at least know about the Grimms and Wesen. You probably are a Grimm…” He sighed and rubbed over his face, then laughed a little. “I wrote this down, I swear I did, but it’s not an easy thing to just go over, looking at a camera…”

“Not easy to watch either,” Nick muttered. Sloane wrapped her arm around his and he squeezed her hand.

Reed took a deep breath and leveled his gaze as if to look right at him. “I’m not a Grimm. Your mother, she is and when I met her…it opened up a whole new world for me. A sometimes-terrifying world, but also _fascinating_. My understanding of history, and of the present was flipped upside down. And while it wasn’t always easy, and it had its painful moments, I wouldn’t trade any of it. I wouldn’t trade her or you for anything. But there’s stuff out there that even she doesn’t quite know about…” Nick frowned but resisted pausing.

“When I met your mother, she was looking into something she found. A scroll—it should hopefully still be in our things. And it opened my eyes to that world. But also…Well, to be honest, it was love at first sight for your me when I met your mother,” he said, smiling a warmly. “I wanted to impress her, so I told her I was the professor but I was just a TA. The information made no sense to either of us at the time on that scroll…But someone wanted it badly enough to attack me when I wanted to keep the scroll to study more. I figured Kelly would have to return for it and I could get her number then in case I found anything…or maybe if she wanted to have dinner.”

“Your dad is surprisingly cunning,” Sloane muttered. Nick smiled, agreeing. He’d never heard this version of how they met, he always said it was when his mom was touring the campus and they’d hit it off.

“Your mother saved me but…my roommate was caught in the crossfire and died. He was a good man and we’d been friends for years so…I wanted to get the guys who did it. But I also wanted to know more about this strange new world in our world. I managed to convince her to let me keep helping her…We had a lot of adventures. I got into journaling because of her, they should hopefully be with my trunk too. I’d love to tell you all of them on here, but there’s honestly so many from before and after we got married. You’re about twelve now so…yeah.” He looked at his hands a moment before sighing. “Your mom tried really hard to protect you from the Grimm life. There was a chance you wouldn’t be a Grimm. She’s proud of it, but…it’s not something she wanted for you. I didn’t either to be honest, what parent would be alright with their kids having to fight for their life all the time? But there’s things out there…wesen and other things, that are truly dangerous. If you are a Grimm and you’re out there fighting, I’m worried but…proud too. We did our best to raise you to do the right thing after all, even if it scares us…”

Sloane squeezed Nick’s hand when he closed his eyes.

“But there’s something worse coming.” He opened them and they both looked at the recording worriedly. “Ever since she brought it to me, I’ve been looking into the scroll she found. I’ve got a copy here, but it should be in the trunk too along with my notes.” He held up printout of an old scroll. Nick realized with shock it looked a lot like the tapestry Monroe had taken from the crypt in Germany—seven people fanning out from a black figure “It details that the Grimms were created by something—it began with seven and they were sent out into the world to hunt, but to also have children to pass their gifts on to. This was a long, long time ago, even before this scroll. Well before some empires—I think at least six thousand years ago. But something happened almost a thousand years ago. The Grimm’s gift was dying out and they needed a way to renew it. Without knowing exactly how it was done before, they performed some sort of ritual…I’m not sure of all the details because honestly, any information I’ve found has called it “Der Unsäglich”. The Unspeakable.”

Nick paused it again. “The Unspeakable? That…that doesn’t sound good…”

“No, that sounds pretty bad actually…” Sloane nodded. “I mean, historically we’ve heard of our ancestors doing a lot of objectively awful things…what makes this “Unspeakable”?”

Nick nodded, thinking the same thing. Sighing, he pressed play again.

“The thing about this ritual is something went wrong. They had to seal whatever they did away by killing it, but then also taking part of its body.”

Sloane now grabbed the remote and paused it, looking at Nick with wide eyes. “Did he just say what I think he said?”

Nick nodded numbly and looked towards where the tunnel was, thinking about the bone down in the chest he hid there. “…Keep going, maybe he knows something more.”

Sloane nodded and hit play.

“—These parts of whoever or whatever the focus of the ritual was contain abilities— powers difficult to fathom. I believe that the Royal family—I hope you’ve met them but if not, I wrote about them. Awful people, truly. But I believe they’ve gotten ahold of one of the artifacts. That give them their power.”

“I think Meisner got that…” Sloane muttered.

“The others are scattered around, with strange clues left. I thought these coins Kelly found recently might be some, but they’re something else entirely. But I’ve found and deciphered what I could, it’s all in my journals—specifically the black one. I’ll talk a bit about all of them in this video too, but I need to get this all out first. I got some unwanted attention for my research. I’m being watched I’m sure. That’s why I’m making this and sealing this all away while I can, because I don’t know if they’re going to come after me. This way, I can leave you what I have and hope that you’ll be able to pick up where I left off. Some of these items are already out in the world and they seem beneficial, but they are _dangerous._ They need to be contained. I hope that your mother is there to help you…if she is, I have a video for her too. But more than anything, Nick, I want you to know I love you.” He smiled, tearing up a bit. “You are such an amazing kid, I am so proud of you and I hope that you’re living a great life, whatever that is for you. Grimm or no. I hope you knew that but I want to be sure you did.”

Nick paused the video again but this time the remote fell from his hands and he hunched over, his face in his hands.

“Nick?” Sloane asked gently.

“I knew…I knew, I just…didn’t’ think I’d hear it again…” he said, trying hard not to cry.

Sloane gently put her arms around him, rubbing over his back and not saying anything as he shook gave shuddering breaths. Inside though, she felt a prickling of envy that he’d heard those words in person once…

\-----------------------

“Nick, what is this about?” Kelly asked.

“Just…I want to show you something.” Nick had gone to get his mother after calming down from watching the tape earlier. They opted not to keep watching Reed talk about the artifacts for now, because Nick knew he wanted to get his mother so she could be part of it. But there was another tape for her to watch first.

“That’s going to be a bit hard, son,” she said dryly.

“I…have a solution for that,” he said, guiding her out of the elevator and over to the couch. “Just wait here.” She didn’t say anything, sitting down. Nick quickly opened the chest nearby and took out the rib. He looked at it a moment, feeling it’s weight, before walking over. “This is going to be strange but…just hold still.”

“Okay…” she said, uncertain. He then pressed the rib lightly to the side of her face, holding it there with his hand. “Nick, what is this?”

“Just wait a moment…” he said, hoping this would work again.

Kelly frowned, a little impatient, but then froze. Nick could see her eye focusing, the pupil contracting and expanding, before she gasped. She lifted her own hand and pressed it to his cheek. “Nick, I…my eye…”

He smiled, relieved. “You can see me?”

“Yes! I…I can see you perfectly out of this eye…”

“L-let’s try the other. Can you take your prosthetic out?”

She hesitated but took off her eyepatch and then carefully pulled her lower lid down and guided the white prosthetic out. Nick held the rib to that side of her head and they waited…but he saw nothing changing. He frowned in frustration. “It’s not working…”

“What isn’t, exactly?” she asked.

“The…bone we found.” He brought it down to show her.

“The one from the crypt? Nick, you said you weren’t sure about it.”

“I’m still not, I just…wanted to help you see again,” he said.

She smiled. “And you did.”

“But your other eye…”

She sighed but then shrugged. “Even this might have its limits. That eye is gone, has been for almost a year, it might not be able to regrow it…Same goes for other limbs maybe. This is enough for me, being able to see perfectly out this eye again. See you, see what’s around me…that’s already a kind of miracle. Besides, I’m told the eyepatch suits me.”

He smiled a bit. “I have another surprise for you then.”

“More?”

“Yeah…”

“Okay…Let me go put this back in first. Maybe wash my face too…” She said, holding up the prosthetic eye. She stood and went to go wash it and her hands down before putting it back in and Nick quickly put the bone back in the chest and put it by the secret door. Sloane had already taken the cloth to bring to Monroe and Rosalee. He grabbed the remote and waited for his mom to return. She did, patting her face dry. “Is it weird I almost forgot what I looked like? Also, that did take care of some scarring I think. It could’ve done some of the wrinkles.”

“You always looked good, Mom.”

She smiled and walked over. “What’s this other surprise.”

“Sit down first,” he said, gesturing to the couch. She did, looking at him—really looking—rather quizzically. He smiled and pressed play and waited for the tape to start.

“Hey, Kelly…”

Her head whipped to the TV and she stared in shock when she saw her husband on the screen. “Reed…?” Nick slowly backed away into his room, giving her privacy to watch the video.

“I’m sorry if you’re watching this…it means I probably died…But I want you to know whatever it was, it wasn’t your fault. I was fully onboard with your life and your abilities—even when we fought about it, it was only because I knew you deserved at least a little time as just Kelly. Not Kelly Kessler, the big bad Grimm, just…Kelly. But whatever we got ourselves into, it’s not your fault I’m gone. You have been…the best girlfriend, wife, mother of our child I could ask for. You have been an adventure and breathed life into me. I don’t regret anything.”

“You’re wrong…it is my fault,” she said quietly.

“And here’s where you’re probably saying I’m wrong and blaming yourself,” he said, smiling. Kelly blinked and Reed smiled and for a moment it felt like he was there with her. “I know you, Kelly…And I know that we both took risks. I was also taking a few you didn’t know about…That scroll you brought me that first time we met may be the key to something greater. I have it all written down in my journals in my trunk. I left a video for Nick too with more information. If he does awaken, I think it’ll be later in life…Mid-twenties maybe. Like you said, girls inherit sooner, but it’s something else. Something to do with how Grimms in some bloodlines are declining and weakening. And it all goes back to that ritual on the scroll. I’d go over it all here like I usually do but…I don’t want this to be a lecture. You can read about it in the black journal and watch Nick’s tape, but I want this one to be for you. I just want to say whether it’s a past adventure or the coins you found or what I’ve been looking into here, whatever killed me is not your fault. We made enemies the both of us and if they caught up, then it’s all them. I wouldn’t trade a second of our life together, a second of Nick in our lives, for anything. I love you, Kelly. Love at first sight, like I always told you.”

She laughed a bit, eyes misting over, and she put her hand on the TV. She hadn’t even realized she’d gotten so close. But it was still so far away…she paused it before he got up to turn off the camera and stared at him.

“Mom?”

She looked up, wiping quickly at her face. “Nick, where did you…?” He stopped the video and motioned for her to follow. She went to his room and gasped when she saw the trunk, going over and running a hand over the Led Zepplin sticker. “You found it…?”

“He’d left it at Vassar,” Nick said. “Dr. Hier told us he was on a list of people studying the Grimm Templars and I called to see if they had anything…She coordinated getting it to us. I was going to tell you when it got here but we started going through things and…yeah.”

“Remind me to thank her,” she said, opening the trunk. She smiled, tracing over some of the books. Then she picked up the picture frame like Nick had and chuckled. “Niagara Falls…Your father looked like a wet cat just before this I think.”

Nick smiled. “He was upset I’d gone running around on the boat and almost slipped…”

“Ah, that’s right…”

“I can’t find the scroll he talked about though, or journals,” he said worriedly.

Kelly sighed and looked the chest over before smiling and reaching up. “Your father is tricky enough he could be a Grimm…” She grabbed a small tab and pulled and the roof of the chest popped open and came down. Inside, strapped to the lid, were several books and a small tube.

Nick snorted and sat down. “Guess I should’ve realized he wouldn’t leave them out in the open…”

Kelly hummed and unstrapped the books that had been secured closed but flat against the lid. There were four brown leather ones, and one black. “I’m surprised they’re still here though…”

“I think only a couple of people knew he left the trunk at the college,” Nick said. “…You don’t regret being with dad, do you?”

Kelly looked at him and then sighed. “…It’s hard not to think he’d be here if it wasn’t for me…but no. I have you because I did. I have our memories. It might be easier for you since you’re with a Grimm though.”

Nick nodded slowly. “I feel that way about Juliette…or Eve…” He sighed and shook his head. “You were right back then.”

“I was speaking from experience,” she said with a sad smile. “…You’re happy with Sloane though?”

He smiled. “Yeah…really happy.”

Kelly smiled as well. “Good…you both deserve it.”

Nick smiled. He then reached up and took the tube down from the lid, opening it up. “This is that scroll?”

“Yes. I found it among some of my great grandfather’s things. It gave me an odd feeling so I wanted to research it.”

Nick pulled it out of the tube and very carefully spread it out. “…It’s almost just like that tapestry Monroe found,” he said. He pulled out his phone, bringing up a photo he’d taken when they’d seen it in person last week. “See? This was down in the crypt, he said it was between two very wealthy looking skeletons.”

Kelly took it, looking it over. “I’m glad I can see it now—If I could see it clearly before I might’ve been able to put things together faster…Mine didn’t have these words though.”

“No…but yours does have faces,” Nick said, looking at it again. “I couldn’t tell on the tapestry, but these seven figures…they’re moving away from whatever that is.” Kelly looked between the two and nodded, realizing he was right. Rather than offering the items to the shadowy figure in the middle, the scroll showed the seven moving away from the black central figure. As though they were taking something from it… “Dad mentioned that this…ritual, whatever it was, was to seal something away. And that they had to take parts of its body.”

“…The rib…”

“Yeah. He said he had more info on the tape for me.” He looked at her. “Feel like having a movie night with everyone?”

She smiled a little. “Popcorn or pizza?”

\--------------------------

Around Portland, several people received an invite: Monroe, Rosalee, Hank, Wu, and Adalind. Most said they’d be right over.

Adalind however declined since she didn’t think Diana wouldn’t likely want to sit still for it. Kelly said she’d update her later and Adalind texted back she’d be fine. She knew there was an HW member outside watching the house after all.

So she was she was surprised when there was a knock at the door. She wondered if Kelly forgot something and got up to open it. “Kelly?”

She froze when she saw a man in a suit there and felt a chill run up her back. He was tall, thin and older but she couldn’t place his age. He had tan skin and salt and pepper hair, high cheek bones, and a reedy nose. And he smiled when he saw her, the sort of smile then sent alarm bells through her even though it seemed calm and gentle. It was like a doll’s smile. Carved. Intentional. Calculated. _Fake_.

“Ms. Schade?”

“Y…yes?”

He removed his hat and set it over his chest in a slight bow that spoke of another era. “It’s lovely to finally meet you. I believe we need to have a talk.”

“…I’m sorry, I…don’t know you.”

“Ah, pardon me. Where are my manners?” he said, smiling wider. “My name is Conrad Bonaparte.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been planning this for a bit! I always wanted to know more about Nick's dad and was disappointed the show never talked about him. So here we are! I made dad a kind of book nerd. Think Evie to Kelly's Rick O'Connel :3 ...Now there's an AU...but anyway, I've been neglecting Kelly as well and part of it was I freely admit I wasn't sure what to do with her despite wanting her to be alive. I'm going to try and do more with her from now on, or at least give her more agency to go out and do shit. But first, ANGST! and she gets one eye back, as a treat.
> 
> I also wanted to have Billy Capra come back and try something...but I just didn't see making a full story about it. Especially with the demon cupid somewhere on the horizon. So I decided to get it out of my system and have Sloane have a resistance to the musk. I'm also still figuring a few things out as far as where the Black Claw story is going to be going with the changes I've made, so any feedback or suggestion is welcome.
> 
> ALSO, side note, but I'm skipping the next episode, The Believer. The Jesus allegory episode. It's not because I'm religious or anything, I just honestly felt it was a bit heavy handed and I'm just not into it enough to rewrite it. Considered doing Hibernaculum because I still haven't, but considering i have it in january it feels a bit late. So it's going to be an original story!


End file.
